


An Unspoken Pact

by AchillesLament (11Mydesign11), Destinyawakened, Identically_Different



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ghosts, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Paranormal, Season 1, Sex, Smut, Spirits, medium!Will Graham, thepumpkinispeople
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-01-25 17:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12537248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11Mydesign11/pseuds/AchillesLament, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Identically_Different/pseuds/Identically_Different
Summary: Will Graham doesn't just have an overactive imagination and empathy, he can also see and communicate with the dead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *If you want to keep up to date, please follow us on [Tumblr! ](http://identically-different.tumblr.com)You can also help us boost this story by reblogging our post there on it!  
> *This story follows the show pretty close and we've taken some lines from the show as well, but we have mixed things up a bit here to come to move things along.

Knowing from an early age that his mother hadn’t died--that it hadn’t been the reason she wasn’t with them--had always left Will Graham with a empty spot in his heart, though easily fill with frivolous things, other memories, other thoughts, other tasks. Will’s father hadn’t said his mother left, he’d actually tried to tell Will she died, but Will had known from a very early age that simply wasn’t true, and whether that was intuition or something else, he wouldn’t ever tell his father he knew the truth. Some lies were better left for those who told them as it was a simple comfort to them to believe in something that simply wasn’t. It was nice to think perhaps she died, that she didn’t hate him and his father, that she was never overwhelmed by having a family, but Will held no delusions, not where the dead were concerned, and his mother was not one of them.

The dead were where Will walked the most, hand-in-metaphorical-hand. His dreams were vivid, barely cusping on the edge of reality, forced and plunged into darkness and death, tugging at his imagination from that early age, to the point he stopped talking about it to anyone, as they all told him he just had an overactive imagination. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. It never ceased for him, he never grew out of it, and as time went on, he learned to adapt, learned to call it something else. Empathy. Anxiety. Emotional distress. Whatever it was that made other people stop asking questions.

If only the _other_ side would have listened. Will tried for years to shut it off, to shut it out, but every insistent entity seemed to come at him, be that good, bad, or just someone in need of getting a message to someone else. Will looked into how to turn it off, to shut it out completely and forever, but no matter what he did, someone slipped by and opened the door, leaving Will with the only option he had left.

Help the dead. Solve the crimes of those murdered and help them move on. He embraced it but never called it what it was, merely implying time and again that he had an overactive imagination and lot of empathy, making it impossibly easy to connect the dots and jumps.Which was how he ended up working for the FBI, putting his study time in to get his teaching credentials in forensic science, and then working homicides on the side when he was called on by local authorities.

Presently, Will stood over the dead bodies of Theresa and Thomas Marlow, surveying the scene as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his everything but the low frequency hum of energy around him started to grow louder, raising his hackles. He reminded himself to breathe, to calm, to let it happen. His eyes slipped closed and and Mrs. Marlow’s voice whispered to him as his mind traveled back in time, to the moment, to the scene, and recounted each and every step.

The difference with Will was he did take what was given to him by the spirits around him and then he put it to story, reenacted the whole thing, piece by piece to make his report. The spirits helped, they could usually describe the killer, never a name unless they knew them personally, but here they hadn’t, and all Will got from them was the killer wore a mask and fake, sharp teeth.

When he is done with his walk through, with the Marlows at his side, Will had his hand near the alarm pad, eyes opened and staring at it. He asked for the alarm report, and then made a comment and handed it back as Mrs. Marlow sighed, as though she should have known, but Will gave off the impression ever so subtly that she couldn’t have.

“He tapped their phone.”

***

Will didn’t go back to that case, the Marlows killer was not found, the case was filed away. The Marlows didn’t bother him after that, and Will was sure it was because he never returned to the house, and they’d likely stay there and haunt whoever moved in next. If anyone moved in next.

He went right back to teaching, never skipping a moment, never thinking on things longer than he had to, at least for now. A case, when it was done, or he could do nothing else, was left just as that. Spirits didn’t always let it go, though, so he counted himself lucky in this instant. He did use the case for classroom material, but beyond that he left work at work, and home time for whiskey and his dogs.

If he were lucky, he’d have a few weeks off until the next time he’d be called on.

But, luck was never Will’s friend, he wasn’t sure why he ever hoped it would be.

“What do you want, Jack?” Will asked, packing up his things, the other man pinning Will down with his gaze, asking personal questions, trying to get inside of Will’s head, and then asking for the world.

Nothing new, but Will had a feeling the request might be.

“I need your help,” Jack said, flat out. “I want to borrow that imagination of yours, see what it can do.”

“Is this about the seven missing girls?” Will had kept up with news, he tried to ignore a lot of it, but he liked to be prepared and when putting lectures together, he had no other choice.

“Eight.”

“When did you tag the latest?”

“Right before I walked in here.”

“Still no bodies?”

“Still no bodies.”

Will knew he’d need to get close to sense anything, that this was Jack’s way of dragging him in. “Do you have a map of where they were found? I’d like to see.”

“Follow me.”

***

A look at map lead them to the profiles of the girls, each one the same with brown hair and blue eyes, pale, wind chafed skin. Will’s feeling from instinct was that it was the same man, and it wasn’t about all the girls, but one, one that had yet to be taken. After expressing as much to Jack, Jack all but begged for his help.

So, Will stood in the Nichols house, looking around at everything, glove sterile gloves on so he didn’t leave his own fingerprints behind. So far nothing, but as he looked around, he saw a cat dish and water, then started for the stairs. Jack followed with the girl’s parents close behind, and half way up, Will stopped, a shiver rising through his spine as the room grew cold, and he saw his breath in the air.

No one else noticed, but Jack put a hand on Will’s shoulder to move him along, so he kept going, one step after another, until a hazy image of a girl in a white nightgown and blood dripping from it stood behind him, her head turned down, but she was pointing to the bedroom.

“Does… your daughter have a cat? How’s-how’s the cat?” Will stuttered, trying to make his reasons believable.

Pawing sounded from the room, and Will pushed the door open, revealing the girl’s body that had no been there hours ago when the police had left. A body, the first in all eight of the abductions, and Will knew something was off, something was different. He held the girl’s parents back.

“It’s crime scene, please get out.”

***

In the end, the girl ended up with cancer, and whoever was taking them had decided she wasn’t worthy of being eaten, the spirit of the girl conveying as much to Will, and gave very little on where she had been, but something about a cabin, which wasn’t uncommon around there. He’d done all he could for now, and once home he drove back, in the dark, toward his off the beaten path home in Wolf Trap.

A dog came into view and Will attempted to coax it, and finally he stopped the car and got the pretty orange colored thing into his trunk with a few treats, that Will always had on hand. Back home, he washed and dried the dog, named him Winston, introduced him to the rest of the dogs, and drank three fingers of whiskey, his mind never leaving the crime scene, never forgetting the girl’s face as she appeared to him. Usually spirits stuck to their homes or their parents, wherever they felt needed, but Elise Nichols haunted Will’s dreams that night, nightmare after nightmare, constantly making it clear that Will had to finish this, he couldn’t walk away.

***

The next day Jack confronted Will about his comment concerning Elise being put back as an apology. All Will could explain was that he couldn’t honor her the way he had the others, as Elise had made something like that clear, but Will knew he hadn’t listened hard enough.

Working with the forensic science team, they did find enough evidence to start looking for the killer, more than he got from the girl, but as Will knew, not all victims had time to see their attackers. It was fine, they had leads. For now.

Turned out, Elise Nichols had liver cancer, so her meat, in essence was bad, unusable and the killer felt awful for being unable to use her… to _eat_ her. If that were the case, their other victims were likely gone, taken, eaten, what ever else this killer did with them. For all Will knew, he ate every bit, use every piece and fiber.

***

In Jack’s office once more, Will was sipping on bitter coffee, wishing for more sugar, glasses on to keep out the unwanted intrusions, especially with the newcomer at his side, sitting there in his stupid tanned suit, and perfectly done up hair. Will wanted to roll his eyes, but kept his attention on the map as Jack talked.

“Tasteless,” Will spat, shaking his head, trying to ignore now the coolness in the room, the formation of a spirit at the back of his mind, trying to attach, trying to formulate some sort of presence. It was… distracting. Every hair on Will’s neck stood on end, cool like a wash of water over him, soaking him in a fine sheen of sweat.

Hannibal looked at the map on the wall, his hands in his lap but he watched Will from his periphery. The man smelled of dogs, trees, and cheap aftershave. Perhaps something with a ship on the bottle, Hannibal mused to himself with delight. “Do you have trouble with taste?” he asked, his tone a deep, rich timber.

“My thoughts are not often tasty,” Will murmured into his mug, his line of vision never meeting Hannibal’s exactly, but rather to the side of his face where the faint aura of _something_ or someone was trying to appear. Will knew if he tried hard enough he could reach out, he could help, he could do a lot of things. But, that in itself meant being far more social than he was right now.

“Nor mine,” Hannibal said, nonchalantly and turned to look at Will directly, even if the agent wasn't looking at him directly. He licked his lips, assessing silently. “No effective barriers.”

A very faint outline of a little girl started to appear, her essence was sweet, non-threatening, and kind, though frightened. Will huffed, swallowing thickly. His eyes met Hannibal’s amber ones for a flicker of a second through thick lenses. “I make forts.”

Hannibal sipped his coffee, the faintest hint of a smile playing over his lips as mirth and interest flashed in his eyes. He knew then he wanted to know more about this Will Graham. “Associations come quickly.”

“So do forts,” Will retorted with a glare, sea-blue gaze keenly trained on the doctor now, but not looking at his eyes, but rather the spot the girl had been as the wisp of presence around him starting to disappear entirely.

“Not fond of eye contact, are you?” Hannibal asked, canting his head just so before taking another sip of his coffee and setting it down on the desk in front of him.

Will rolled his eyes and for the purpose of it all, still did not look at Hannibal. “Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don’t see enough. And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking those whites are really white or they must have hepatitis, or is that a burst vein?” He sighed. “So I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.”

Hannibal chuckled, entirely enchanted by Will then. His amber hues were all but dazzling with euphoric intrigue and delight. He took a very quick, yet unnoticeable breath before responding. "I imagine what you see and learn, touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present, yet shocked at your associations. Appalled at your dreams," he said, his face serious now, assessing. "No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love."

Will’s eyes snapped to Hannibal like an angered animal ready to either pound or run. “Whose profile _are_ you working on?” He looked to Jack, jaw tense. “Whose profile is he working on?”

Hannibal took up his coffee again, leaning back in the chair casually. “I'm sorry Will. Observing is what we do. I can't shut mine off anymore than you can shut yours off,” he explained and took a proud sip of his coffee, even if it didn't show on his face.

Will glared and stood, looking to Jack instead of Hannibal, the other presence now gone. “Please don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a lecture on psychoanalyzing.” With that, Will left, not looking back.

***

Another girl was found, this one mounted on antlers, all but gift wrapped and handed over on a silver platter. Will felt like he was dreaming, like part of him was floating through the scene, but Jack and the others were there grounding him. The ghost of a girl at his side wandered ever close with him, blurry, unlike her dead, naked body before him. Whoever did this, Will knew for a fact it was not the killer with so much love for his victims.

“Our cannibal loves women. He doesn’t want to destroy them. He wants to consume them. Keep some part of them inside. This girl’s killer thought she was a pig,” Will found himself saying to the team, and the girl nodded her head, aware of the murders it seemed, and this one was not the same, but it was meant to look that way. To be seen, somehow, as different. There was something here and Will couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“You think this is a copycat?” Jack asked, brows raised.

“I don’t know. The cannibal who killed Elise Nichols had a place to do it and no interest in field Kabuki. He has a house or two, or a cabin. Something with an antler room,” Will explained, going on more about the sort of girl, who the next victim would be to the man they do want, and exactly the sort of person who did this, and why it wasn’t them.

A negative image to see a clear one. Will sighed and went back to his hotel.

***

Somehow Will had found himself in a field, walking and walking, grass under his feet, and the sound of steps near him. He turned and saw a beast, a stag with dark raven feathers, like nothing he’d seen in his life, and man had he seen some things. Will reached out, trying to touch, trying to _see_ …

Knocking woke him from his sleep, drenched in sweat, he took his shirt off and tugged another from his suitcase, and then over his head before answering the door.

“Good morning, Will, may I come in?” Hannibal asked, standing there with a couple of containers in his hands, a smile on his face as he looked at Will and waiter.

“Where’s Jack?” Will asked, looking around, mostly for his boss and a bit for the little girl spirit who was so attached to the doctor.

“Deposed in court, the adventure will be yours and mine today,” Hannibal said, smiling with an almost chipper tone. He looked around Will, into the room and then back to the surly agent. “May I come in?”

Happy to not see the little girl, Will moved back, clad in just his boxers and a t-shirt, still sweaty. He shut the door behind them and then opened the blinds, going to find a robe to wrap around himself to be less indecent.

“Is that breakfast?” Will asked, looking over at the containers.

Hannibal sat down at the table and began opening the containers. “I'm very careful about what I put into my body. As such I end up preparing most meals myself,” he said, organizing and dishing it out. He placed one in front of Will, handing him a fork. “A little protein scramble to start the day. Some eggs and some sausage.”

Will took a seat and the fork, looking at the eggs. He quietly took a bite and hummed around it, taking a few more as he watched the other man, light shining in on him, his hair lighter in the sun, eyes brighter, less growly, less grumpy… seemingly. “It’s good, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Hannibal replied, taking another bite and then wiping his mouth. He watched Will in equal measure, taking in every nuance and word. “I would apologize for my analytical ambush, but I will soon be apologizing again and soon you'll tire of that eventually,” he said, a slight grin playing on his lips. “So I'll have to use apologies sparingly.”

Will chuffed, rolling his eyes a little as he shoved more food into his mouth. “Let’s just keep it professional.”

Hannibal looked at Will, blinking once before taking another bite. “Or we could socialize like adults,” he said once he swallowed. “God forbid we become friendly.”

Taking up the cup of coffee, Will sipped on it with a hum, eyes cast to Hannibal, staying on him to keep from wandering the room as it grew cold around him. “I don’t find you that interesting.”

“You will,” Hannibal said, a tinge of something in his tone as he looked at Will. He took yet another bite and then changed the topic. “Agent Crawford says you have a knack for the monsters.”

Will’s brow furrowed with that and he set his fork down, arms folded on the table. He’d ignore that bit for now, and get down to business, since this was purely professional. “I don’t think the Shrike killed that girl. The Copy Cat killer left us a package, he gift wrapped it. He showed me everything that _wasn’t_ the Shrike.” He let it out, everything he’d held in, nothing he’d told Jack.

Just as Will had said his peace, his eyes focused on the wavering spirit forming behind Hannibal, the little girl again.

“A formula for you to figure out,” Hannibal nodded and sipped his coffee, taking the final bite before leaning forward. He noted Will looking behind him, but it seemed curious, as though it was more than just avoidance of eye contact. Nonetheless he continued. “What are his tendencies? Problems he might have, Will? Can you see them?”

Will poured himself more coffee, he was going to need it with the doctor prodding and poking at him like this. “He has a few.”

“Ever had any problems, Will? I assume not. You and I are problem free, nothing horrible for us to worry about,” Hannibal grinned, watching Will’s face. “You know, I think Jack sees you as a fragile little teacup. The finest China only reserved for special guests.”

Sitting back once more, no longer interested in his breakfast, Will stared at Hannibal, no longer the little blond girl who had completely materialized next to him. “How do you see me?”

Hannibal’s expression changed, serious but there was authenticity there. “The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by,” he replied, holding his gaze, silently and then gestured towards his food. “Finish your breakfast, Will.”

***

They went out, into the day, looking at a few construction sites that used the exact piping that Katz had found on Elise Nichols. Finally hit the jackpot on one, and Will got everything they could manage from the secretary there, especially one man who had less information than anyone else, and something about that rung too true to Will, like this was it, this was the one. Intuition was pulling him.

Hannibal helped him with files and finally they were on their way to the house in question, to start there, but Will had a good feel. Or, as good as feeling as he could have when they arrived to a bloody mess on the front porch and Mrs. Hobbs lying there bleeding out.

Eyes wide behind his frames, Will tried to stop the bleeding, but she died right there, materializing right next to Will, urging him in side. “Please, please, my daughter-” she begged, over and over until finally Will pulled his gun, the anxiety he felt of the new spirit in his space only make his hands shake worse.

“Garret Jacob Hobbs? FBI,” he called out as he entered the house, into the kitchen where he heard rustling, and saw the killer, knew it was him just by looking at him. He had his daughter by the hair, the throat, holding her, whispering to her. Will drew closer and Hobbs slashed her throat and threw her to the ground. Will shot, and shot… he kept shooting until he was sure Hobbs was down.

“See?” Hobbs managed to gasp out before dying, lifeless, his spirit nowhere to be seen.

The whole thing was a blur, on his knees now, hand over the girl’s throat, trying to stop the bleeding, but his hands shook and slipped, glasses splattered with blood. He looked up, Hannibal standing there, two spirits now with him, Mrs. Hobbs and the little blonde girl, left watching them both. Hannibal looked on curiously for just a second. It was beautiful, all the blood, the way Will so desperately tried to save the girl on the ground. He moved then, swiftly and got onto the ground, removing Will’s hand to put his own there instead. The bleeding was stopped, at least temporarily until the medics could arrive. All the while he looked at the agent, only interested in the girl because of Will’s interest in her.

Once the girl was worked on and gathered onto a gurney, Will finally let himself be guided away from the scene so they could process it. Bloodstained, he walked out, Mrs. Hobbs’ spirit drifting away while the girl followed close behind Hannibal. Will met her ghostly eyes, blinking, unaware of just how intensely he was staring until she followed after Hannibal who was getting into the ambulance. Hannibal looked at Will, something unreadable in his gaze before he glanced back to the girl, looking over her vitals and injury himself. Who else could provide the sort of care that he could? Not many.

The little blonde spirit disappeared completely and Will was left alone once more to pick up his own pieces.

***

“How is she?” Will asked, sitting down across from Hannibal, who woke the second Will entered. Abigail, as her name turned out to be, was alive, but barely.

“Recovering,” Hannibal said, his hand over hers, seemingly protective. He glanced at Will, trying to read his face like a map inside the forts, a loophole of sorts if he could get through. “She had a rough few hours but she is stabilizing, albeit slowly. The next twenty four hours will be the most telling.”

Abigail’s spirit was nowhere to be seen, so that was a good sign. Will nodded his head, biting his bottom lip as he pulled it through his straight teeth slowly. “ _You_ helped her, she’ll make it.” Will had a new found light in his eyes for the doctor, not something of interest, but admiration.

“I took a Hippocratic oath; more than that, I could not bare to see her suffer such a fate,” Hannibal said, trying to catch Will’s eyes as he sat up a bit straighter, chin tipped towards the agent.

“She’s very lucky,” Will whispered, though the girl wasn’t coming out of her coma anytime too soon. Will shifted his jaw, eyes catching Hannibal’s for a moment, avoiding the soft featured little blonde girl standing beside of Abigail, who too seemed to assessing him.

Any eye contact with Will was like a lightning strike, powerful, deadly, and entirely beautiful. Hannibal smiled, full lips quirking faintly as he nodded. “She is, but I fear that the damage done will prove to be more internal than external, once she awakens. It is fortunate that she will have you, as well as myself, to assist in that.”

“You maybe,” Will commented, well aware of his own psychosis, but considered himself stable enough. He had his ways and wits. He felt responsible for Abigail, a paternal need aching through him when he laid eyes on her.

“Both of us, Will. She has no one now, only the state,” Hannibal explained, though he knew that they both were aware of that. The doctor crossed one lean leg over the other as he removed his hand from hers, clasping them together on his lap instead. “We can steer her away from the dark places that will threaten to consume her.”

“We’re her beacon of light?” Will smiled a little at that, ruefully, eyes finally flicking over to the figure beside the bed.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, his own smile widening at the sight of Will’s. He followed the agent’s eyes, discreetly, wondering what it was he was looking at but said nothing. “Do you have concerns about how she will respond to that?”

“Neither of us knows her,” Will said, eyes back on Abigail and then Hannibal. “Hard to say.”

“Indeed it is,” Hannibal agreed, mostly wondering how Will was feeling, what he was thinking having killed her father.

Hospitals were Will’s least favorite place to be, all the impending death, the spirits that haunted the walls-- he had blinders coming in, but it was getting difficult to handle as the little blonde girl moved around to look at him, trying to get his attention. He shifted his jaw, a deep wondering of who she was to Hannibal, and yet the less he knew, the better off he was ignoring her.

“She’ll struggle, but that’s how this works. We’ll help her.”

“Fathers of sorts,” Hannibal offered, watching Will’s jaw, his lips as they moved with each sentence. “Since her own is gone.”

“Will she want that? I killed her father,” Will said, idyllically, well aware that Abigail might just hold some resentment, but it was hard to say yet, or what her relationship with her father had been.

“And saved her life in the process,” Hannibal stated, pointing out the obvious that they both knew already. He licked his lips, leaning forward. “She must be shown a new life, guided.”

“Guided,” Will repeated back, keeping his focus on Hannibal, trying his best not to reach out or be reached out to by any spirits, entities, or human.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, his eyes narrowing speculatively. Will seemed a bit distracted, which was interesting. “Tell me, Will, where are you now, where are your own thoughts guiding _you_?”

Closer and closer the little blonde girl came, up against Will’s chair, ghosting fingers over his skin where the hairs stood one end. Will shivered. She leaned and whispered in his ear one word, and Will’s gaze snapped to Hannibal, a simple bit of his past revealed. His mouth worked open but nothing came out as Will rubbed his jaw, and then scrubbed his hands over his face. “To coffee. I’m going to go get some.”

“If you wish for company,” Hannibal trailed off but didn't finish as there was no need. Instead he watched him, detecting something there, something lingering under the agent's skin. “Otherwise I shall remain here.”

Will shrugged with a nonchalant sort of grace and stood. Whether Hannibal came or not wasn't an issue, and his nonverbal communication left it open to the doctor. Will swallowed and walked out of the room, quicker than he meant, toward the stairs for the cafeteria.

Hannibal waited for a beat and then stood, having no real reason to stay. He followed the scent of aftershave to the cafeteria, where he got a cup of terribly pathetic coffee. Finding Will, he walked over and blew on the hot beverage. “You seem as though you've seen a ghost.”

Will had his hands over his eyes, glasses in his front breast pocket. A soft chuff escaped past Will’s lips, and he shook his head. “That’s… ridiculous.”

“Merely an expression, Will,” Hannibal chuckled once and then sat down, taking a sip of the horrendous coffee. It was warm and wet but did nothing to appease him. Luckily, the sight of Will did. Seeing his distress was both bothersome and amusing; the agent seemed so exquisitely broken.

 

Sighing heavily, Will looked over at the doctor, blinking a few times. The information he had from the one word the spirit gave him left him with a slightly better taste in his mouth about the doctor, but hardly enough to spur him into action. “So it is.” He took a sip of coffee. “Been a long few days.”

“That it has,” Hannibal agreed, setting his coffee down to take a napkin from its holder and wipe off the table a bit. Could the hospital honestly not afford to hire better janitorial service workers? That was neither here nor there for the moment but briefly contemplated serving the hospital director to Will for supper. He deserved far better than being exposed to such banalities. The train of thought lead him to his next topic. “Perhaps you'd let me cook for you at my home, a reprieve from the stresses of work.”

“Are we friendly terms now? You’re supposed to my therapist,” Will pointed out, though he wasn’t sure how long that would last, considering they solved the case, however with the copycat about, Will was sure he’d be seeing Jack again soon. “No longer… doctor and patient?”

“We’re having conversations. Should it matter if they take place in my office, here, or at my home? I've already shared a meal with you,” Hannibal pointed out, a charming smile spread across his lips. He certainly saw Will as more than a patient.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Will said with a shift of his jaw as the little blonde girl came and sat next to Hannibal. His eyes drifted to her as she folded her arms over the table, staring at him. “I have to get home to my dogs at some point.”

“Certainly,” Hannibal answered, his face not conveying the disappointment he felt but at least it wasn't a no. He took up his coffee again and took a couple more drinks before deciding he was done altogether with it. “How many dogs do you have?”

Will debated the truth, and then finally shrugged just slightly. “Seven.”

Hannibal raised his barely there brows only slightly and nodded. “Easier to form relationships with dogs than people, I presume.”

“Dogs are ever faithful to you,” Will explained and tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash. “You feed them and they are loyal. I collect strays, they’re the ones that need the most.”

“You like to feel needed because it is a guarantee that there will likely not be abandonment,” Hannibal surmised, also thinking of Abigail, though humans were different from dogs. He placed his cup inside the trash and let Will lead. “And dogs do not try to tear down forts.”

“No, they hide inside with you, protect you, keep you company without merit or judging,” Will explained, getting to his feet, he had no reason to be here, and had to teach class soon, though even that he wasn’t sure he could handle. He had it in good mind to go down to the range and attempt to become a better shot. Nearly unloading a whole clip into Hobbs was a bit of story no around the bureau.

“What you need to remember is that there is life outside of the forts,” Hannibal offered, walking next to Will. “You merely need to connect with the right person. I can be your paddle, Will, your guide through murky waters into a safe harbor.”

“That’s what you’re being paid for isn’t it?” Will asked, head canted slightly, curls in his eyes as he looked at Hannibal, very much aware of the ghost walking behind them in their footfalls.

“Yes, but I would offer it all the same if I wasn't,” Hannibal confessed, a glint in his eye as he looked back at Will, taking in his beauty.

“Friendly conversation about my job and mental health?” Will raised a brow as they walked toward the stairs.

“Support, advice, and company,” Hannibal clarified thought the aforementioned was part of that. He chuckled a little at Will, how his tone often seemed to be scolding. The doctor enjoyed it immensely.

“Company,” Will laughed bitterly as they approached Abigail’s room, no change having come from her. “I’m not the… friendly sort.”

“So I've gathered,” Hannibal said, casually and went over to look at Abigail’s vitals, watching her breath. “That too, could evolve, given the right set of circumstances. If you want it too.”

Will was lonely, but he had enough of people to make him a little crazy inside. If he could hide from the spirits and keep the empathy in check, maybe he’d feel okay coming out of his shell. “For you, you mean?”

“For both of us,” Hannibal said, his hands behind his back as he walked closer to Will, testing limits and gauging reactions.

Will offered the unconventional doctor a grimace of a smile and stepped back, right through the spirit girl, which made him shiver hard, like his bones were going to rattle right out of his skin. Teeth chattering, Will closed his eyes to regain himself, and then slipped his glasses on and left, without another word. He _hated_ being ghosted like that, hated having them inside of him, and it always made him want to crawl under his bed like when he was kid. He needed away from all of this. Hannibal sighed to himself, looked at Abigail once more and then left as well, back to his office to do some much needed work. It would take time but he was patient. He would nourish the seed and watch it grow.


	2. Chapter 2

Between teaching and going to see the comatose Abigail Hobbs, Will found himself stuck between the place of dreaming and awake often, usually bombarded by spirits he’d encountered over the last few weeks, haunting him, keeping him awake, or just pulled far enough under that his dreams were more nightmarish reality than anything else. He at least managed to dodge Doctor Lecter and his little spirit shadow that followed him everywhere, and had, apparently, for many, many years. So long as Hannibal didn’t know and wasn’t bothered, Will wasn’t going to worry himself over it, or subject himself to more spirit invasion.

He preferred spirit evasion.

The new dog, Winston he called him, had settled, thankfully, and their whole routine in his house was cut and dry again. That was, until, Jack and Alan Bloom ambushed him at work and asked him to return to active duty, pending Hannibal Lecter’s psyche evaluation on Will first. Because, according to Jack, their relationship wasn’t ‘personal’. Will had chuckled bitterly to himself at that, of course it wasn’t, he hadn’t allowed it to be.

Little did they know.

So, because Jack needed to feel more comfortable with Will working for him and being active and not… crazy, Will stood in Hannibal’s office, among his books up the ladder on the little fortress of solitude where Will mentally hoped he might just disappear and let the doctor talk. But, all Hannibal did was ‘rubber stamp’ him. Will rolled his eyes at the notion, but was glad for the informality.

“Jack thinks I need therapy,” Will sighed once Hannibal had stopped talking for a breath, wanting to get some of this off his chest so Hannibal knew he was fine, he’d always be fine. Will paced the fortress, ignoring the little girl who sat in Hannibal chair at his desk, kicking her feet.

“And what do you think?” Hannibal asked, watching Will pace as he sat in his chair, looking calm as ever. He was glad to be seeing the agent, since he knew he'd been avoided for the past bit there.

“I think I've been avoiding it, that if I want to keep helping people I need to do what is necessary to keep the dark places brighter,” Will replied with a nonchalant shrug, finger gracing over the banister.

“But you cannot be a beacon for them, if your own light has been extinguished,” Hannibal offered, crossing his leg over the other as he smiled faintly.

“I tend to drown in it, when it happens. It’s why I wasn’t a very good homicide cop,” Will mentioned, leaning on the banister rail with both hands now, watching Hannibal, keeping his eyes trained on him rather than the spirit moving about the room, humming. It took everything within Will to not just ask her what she wanted and be done with it. “I need more than a flashlight; I need a buoy.”

This was not a personal affair-- this was _therapy_.

“Hence the conversations we are to be having,” Hannibal said, standing up to walk over towards his desk. Once there, he sat against it, looking up at Will.

“Yeah. Conversations.” Will rubbed at his eyes, wondering if that little girl was going to be here every single session. He might have to deal with this sooner rather than later, but he also didn’t need his… whatever Hannibal was right now, thinking he was that sort of crazy, too.

“Shall we talk about Abigail? Your surrogate daughter then? Or perhaps agent Crawford’s reaction to her?” Hannibal suggested, moving some papers on his desk as he kept his eyes cast up.

“He… told you?” Will asked, considering what he knew about Hannibal from the little spirit lurking around, and slowly made his way down from his self made fortress in Hannibal’s library, taking the ladder steps one by one. “He suspects she’d been helping Hobbs. It’s… ridiculous.”

“It is, yes, but also possible,” Hannibal said, hands going in his suit coat pockets. He had wondered what Will’s reaction to that would be and was pleased his assumption had been correct.

Will shook his head, frowning. He hadn’t actually talked to Abigail, but she was a _child_ , there was no way he could believe that. She needed help, protection… “No. No… she… _if_ it was possible, it was because of her father.”

Hannibal nodded once, and licked his lips. “As you say, Will. Unfortunate for us that we cannot speak with him. However, maybe the evidence will point you in the right direction there.”

The awful, horrible truth to that statement was that Will could very well ask, as Hobbs had been a permanent fixture to Will’s house, to his soul, it seemed, since Will was the one to take his life. He wasn’t always around, but he was there, hiding in the back of his subconscious. Will huffed, brows raised, hands on his hips as he paced a short spot on the floor. “Let’s say we-- _I_ \-- could talk to him and ask him… do believe he’d give me the truth?”

“The dead would have no reasons for lying that I can deduce,” Hannibal answered, an open minded sort of Doctor. Still, he raised his brows as well, more speculatively than judgmentally. “Have you seen him since you shot him in his kitchen?”

“I see a lot of things,” Will retorted quickly, an uneasy smile placating comfortably across his features as he deflected.

“What do you see, Will?” Hannibal asked, his palm flat on the elegant desk, legs crossed at the ankle. He knew of the empathy, but this was sounding like something else entirely.

The little blonde girl giggled, running around the desk as Will watched her, jaw shifting as he wondered just how much he could trust the doctor to keep to himself. “Did you have a sister?”

Hannibal’s jaw clenched at the question and he swallowed, uneasy now as memories flooded him. “Her name was, Mischa, yes,” he answered, emotion only coming through as he said her name. “Why do you ask?”

“Blonde?” Will asked, watching the small girl giggle now as she ran around him. “Since we met, you’ve had a shadow, a little girl that follows you. She told me she’s your sister.”

“Yes, blonde,” Hannibal whispered, his eyes moistening. He'd not spoken of her to anyone. _No one_ knew. Yet, Will knew. The good doctor, for once, was practically without words. After a moment more of silence, he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “She was taken from me when I was just a boy.”

“Savagely,” Will said, trying not to look at the way the little girl's appearance changed, bloody and bruised. “She wants you to know that she doesn't want you to… continue.” Will wasn't sure what exactly, as the girl was secretive about that much.

Hannibal knew exactly what she meant and it was just more confirmation that this was very real. He swallowed again, his throat tight and heart pounding. “I loved her. I still do,” was all he could say on the matter, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“She’s been with you for sometime,” Will said, watching the girl hug Hannibal, though he likely could not feel it, and then slowly start to disappear. “She’s wanted to move on, I think she can now.”

Hannibal wanted to yell out for her not to go, but he kept his composure. He nodded instead and then looked up at Will, genuinely. “Thank you, Will. I'm afraid I need a drink, I see no harm in sharing one together, do you? If you wish to, of course.”

The fact that Hannibal did not get angry or not believe him was a relief. Will sighed. “So long as this doesn’t leave this room.”

“I'll keep your secret,” Hannibal said and walked over to pull out Brandy. He wouldn't have believed Will, but he knew too much. “Brandy or wine?”

“Brandy is fine,” Will said, not so much on wine, but he’d drink anything put in front of him.

With a nod, Hannibal poured them each a glass and handed one to Will. He sat down in his usual chair and looked at the one across from him, letting him know he could sit if he wished. “What is your preferred drink?”

Will finally sat across from Hannibal, as doctor and patient might, and sipped the drink in hand. “Whiskey.”

“I'll be sure to keep some on hand. I do have a few rare bottles of whiskey at my home,” Hannibal offered, not appearing rattled, only calm.

With the girl gone, Will was far more at ease, his body all but melting back into the chair, relaxed. He looked at the glass of amber liquid, taking a deep breath. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

“No, but I tend to prefer the finer things in life,” Hannibal smiled and took a sip of his brandy, letting it sit on his tongue a second for swallowing. He was glad to see Will more at ease.

“I suppose if you have the money you can,” Will pointed out, taking another sip to thoroughly enjoy the brandy that could be older than himself.

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed, not one who wanted for much. He didn't deny himself a thing. “I must ask, Will. When did you first realize you had this gift?”

“I was about ten when I realized,” Will answered, licking his lips. “I’d always had some form of knowing though ever since I can remember.”

Hannibal processed that and took another drink, setting it down with slight clink. “How frequent do you encounter these… lost souls?”

“Spirits are everywhere, lost souls can be… around the corner. Hospitals are the worst,” Will explained quietly, taking another long sip, and then set his empty glass down. “I see a few a day, sometimes more.”

“Quite handy with your line of work, I’d wager,” Hannibal said, taking up his drink again and finishing it off as well. He gestured to the bottle, asking if Will wanted more. “But likewise a burden as well, yes?”

Will handed his glass over for more to be poured. “A large burden, but sometimes useful. They can give clues to their killers, but not always. The Boyle girl didn’t know her’s, which isn’t uncommon.”

Hannibal rose and went over to refill their glasses, walking back to hand Will his before he sat down once more. “Interesting,” he said, meaning it. This was new for him, though he of course had studied religions and philosophies extensively, he'd never seen any proof on the matter until now. “Do you possess the ability to harbor them?”

“Harbor them?” Will asked, brows furrowed a little, thoughtfully. “Keep them you mean? Possession?”

“Yes, precisely,” Hannibal answered, wondering just how far Will’s gift ran. It was truly phenomenal and the good doctor wanted to walk the halls of the other man's mind now more than ever.

“If I allow it,” Will said, quietly. “It’s happened not of my control when I was younger. I… stepped back into your sister the other week when we were at the hospital… It’s not fun.”

“Is that why you ran suddenly or was it more my invitation for dinner?” Hannibal asked, a grin playing over his lips. Really, he just wanted to know Will Graham, see what made him tick but he also found him very appealing; his mind was fascinating and quite beautiful from what he'd seen so far.

“Both,” Will said with a little smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I ran mainly because of that. I needed to get out. Your sister was pestering.”

Hannibal cut Will a sharp look at that. He didn't take kindly to anyone speaking ill of her, dead or alive. “I see,” he said and sniffed, his lip curling a bit before he took another sip.

It was the wrong thing to say, but Hannibal had never been in Will’s position. The empathic medium sighed and set his glass, unfinished, aside and stood. He picked the signed off sheet from Hannibal’s desk. “I’ll show myself out.”

“Do you always run when things become challenging?” Hannibal asked, not moving, merely speaking over his shoulder. He didn't want Will to leave, but he wouldn't push either.

“I’m not running...I-I need to get home, it’s an hour drive at least,” Will explained, by the door, trying to gauge Hannibal, but the man was so stoic that getting a good read was difficult. “I can’t do that drunk.”

Hannibal stood then and walked over near Will. He nodded and placed his hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn't want you to drive in such a state either,” he said, not unkindly. “While I enjoy your company, I will leave you to it and will be anticipating your next appointment.”

“When did you want to do that,” Will asked, swallowing at the touch, feeling Hannibal’s loneliness he wasn’t expressing.

“Jack recommends weekly, but I am available to you anytime, Will,” Hannibal offered, and then moved his hand after a moment. He was lonely and he thought or hoped he had the possibility of friendship with Will.

“Weekly,” Will repeated back, feeling a sense of loss, not sure if it was himself or Hannibal.

“Yes, that is what he wants, however, my offer stands,” Hannibal said and looked at Will, certainly feeling a loss. He'd made his invitation for the empath to join him for dinner, it was in his hands now.

Something pushed Will, some unknown voice, a force, and he narrowed his eyes a little, but blurted out: “Dinner. You... promised me dinner.”

Hannibal smiled and nodded. “That I did,” he said, letting out a subtle breath he didn't know he'd been holding. “And I would be more than happy to cook for you, whenever it is convenient.”

“Anytime,” Will murmured, hands in his pocket of his coat. “I’m usually free.” He knew that was a dangerous thing to say. “Unless Jack gets to me first.”

“Tonight or tomorrow night then?” Hannibal offered, and canted his head as he awaited the answer. He was looking forward to having him in his home. It would be a more comfortable setting for Will, he hoped.

“Tomorrow. I wasn’t lying, I do need to feed the dogs,” Will explained, “so unless you want to make dinner there, it’ll have to be tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow allows me the opportunity to properly prepare for supper,” Hannibal said and walked over towards the door, so he could open it for Will, but he was in no rush.

Will never made apologies, not when he didn’t feel he had to, and what he had said about Hannibal’s sister was in jest. “Five?” Will asked as he stepped halfway out the door. At least it would be just them, no little girl running around.

“Perfect,” Hannibal answered, no longer bothered by earlier. The evening had just been full of surprises more than anything else. He was looking forward to dinner with Will. “I'll see you there. I'll text you my home address.”

“Yeah, great,” Will said and showed himself out. Dinner with Hannibal was inevitable, and something around him was pushing him toward it.

***

By ten minutes to five, everything was done. Hannibal had the table set and the duck confit looking beautifully flawless. He himself was in black and maroon three piece suit, which he smoothed down as he poured the wine and awaited Will.

The doorbell rang one minute before five, exactly on time. Hannibal walked over the door, a smile on his face when he opened it.

“Hello, Will,” Hannibal greeted, “please, come in.”

Will wasn’t dressed much nicer than usual, it was just dinner, though he did Hannibal an awkward eyeing on seeing him. He smoothed down his cargo vest with muted snicker. “I wasn’t aware this was a formal affair.”

“I always dress for dinner,” Hannibal said, hoping to put Will at ease even if he had in fact gotten extra gussied up for the occasion. Once he was inside, the doctor shut the door. “I wasn't expecting you to do the same, if you're concerned.”

“I don’t own anything nicer than this,” Will commented as he shed his coat for Hannibal to take and hang. “What’s for dinner?”

Hannibal did and then guided Will to the dining room. “You are fine, I assure you. We're having duck confit,” he explained and then offered one of the poured glasses of wine. “Please make yourself comfortable, Will. I'll bring out our supper.”

Will took the glass and sniffed it as regally as he thought manageable and then took a seat to the side of the head set place. Everything was perfectly done, perfectly set. Out of his element, Will had a good get out now, but he was in this for the foreseeable future.

Hannibal returned a moment later and brought their plates to the table. He announced it and then sat down, taking up the wine. “Thank you for joining me tonight, Will, and for your promptness.”

Will nodded, looking at the elegantly plated food, and put his napkin in his lap. “It smells wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal smiled and then after placing his own napkin into his lap, took up his fork, waiting for Will to take the first bite.

Will had duck a lot of before but never this fancy. He cut into the dish and took a bite, savoring it with a soft hum. “It’s very rich. Delicious.”

Hannibal grinned, happy that Will was enjoying it. He then took a bite of his own, chewed, and swallowed. “I'm pleased you like it. It is a favorite of mine.”

“It’s a classic French dish, isn’t it? I’ve never had it,” Will explained, but enjoyed taking another bite and swallowing it down with the well paired light red wine.

“It is yes,” Hannibal stated in agreement, delighted that Will knew as much. He took a sip of the wine and wiped his mouth. “It’s considered one of the finest French dishes. While it is made across France, it is seen as a specialty of Gascony.”

“It’s very good,” Will agreed, taking another bite. He usually ate alone and whatever fish dish he could make, or whatever came out of a can. The dogs ate better than he did.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, always eating up compliments to his cooking, or anything for that matter. He took a couple more bites, just letting the comfortable silence sit between them and then when he felt enough had passed, he spoke. “I hope you're in the mood for dessert? Or perhaps an after dinner drink by the fire.”

“Sure,” Will said, having not given that much thought before it slipped from his mouth, but there was a presence around him that was pushing and prodding him, and he couldn’t quite tell if it was in malice, or something else altogether.

“Excellent,” Hannibal hummed and took the last bite of his meal, chasing it with wine. He leaned back then and smiled at Will. “You seem to have a lot on your mind, Will and as this is not a therapy session, feel free to talk to me as a friend.”

“I’m…” He frowned, setting his fork down on his empty plate. “I’m not very good with socializing.”

“You needn't worry,” Hannibal assured, only wanting to open him up just a bit. He collected their plates and rose. “Please have a seat by the fire. I'll bring in our drinks unless you wanted dessert?”

“Drinks are fine,” Will said, standing once more, hoping that more alcohol would help the awkward tension between them that Will could not quite put his finger on. He wandered into the next room, looking around for moment, listening to Hannibal rinse dishes, and then took a seat.

Hannibal finished up and brought in their drinks, handing the aged whiskey to Will that he'd spoken of and a brandy for himself. He sat down on the couch and looked over at Will, the glow of the fire illuminating the doctor’s striking aristocratic features. “Do let me know if the whiskey is to your liking.”

Taking the glass, Will sniffed it and sipped a bit. He nodded. “It’s better than anything I’ve ever had,” he admitted, though he hardly needed to buy a bottle himself.

“Good, I'm glad you like it,” Hannibal smiled around the rim of his glass as he looked at Will, all but burning holes in him for a moment before turning towards the fire to not overwhelm.

Will was quiet for a bit longer, taking his time to enjoy the sips. “Do you do this often?”

“Sit by the fire and drink or drink with others how I am with you now?” Hannibal asked, leaning back to relax, his leg crossed and body tilted towards Will.

“All of it. The dinner theatrics, the drinks by the fire…” Will shrugged as he took another longer sip this time, licking his lips. “I spend most of my time alone, with my dogs…” _And a few spirits_ , he thought.

Interesting that Will thought it was done to be theatrical. Hannibal mused that he wasn't wrong. “I enjoy entertaining. I throw dinner parties, but a feast must present itself,” he said and then the voice of his sister resounded in his head from what Mischa had requested of him. He pushed that thought away and sipped his drink. “It rarely comes over to this room, however.”

“These are for your… private parties,” Will mused, staring at the fire that lit up his blue eyes a shade of green.

“Yes,” Hannibal answered, looking at Will’s eyes, the hint of gold around the pupil only added to them and was more beautiful than any sunset he'd ever seen. “But it has been quite sometime since I've had one of those.”

“Nothing with Doctor Bloom?” Will asked, testingly, having had a little crush on her for a while.

“When I mentored her, people thought we were having an affair, but we weren't,” Hannibal answered, wondering then if Will was interested in her. Likely. It didn't set well with him but it didn't show. “And as of today, we still are merely friends, colleagues.”

“She won’t even be in the same room alone with me,” Will chuckled, looking at his drink. “I’ve seen her mother a lot. Her ghost.”

“And what does she say, her mother?” Hannibal asked, smiling at Will’s laugh, even if it was correlated to Alana. He didn't understand her. Or he did on a professional level but he was finding he craved to be alone with the empath.

“Mostly things like your sister did, wanting to make peace, move on. I haven’t granted Alana that,” Will sighed, looking at Hannibal, aware he’d given him a piece of himself when letting his sister move on.

“Then I appreciate what you did for me even more,” Hannibal said and sipped on his drink, licking his lips. It wasn't his area of expertise, admittedly, but he wanted to know more.

“She’d been with you a long time, very insistent,” Will murmured with another sip.

“Yes, that seems befitting her. She is a Lecter afterall,” Hannibal smiled, a pang of grief funneling to his eyes.

“Sorry,” Will said, not wanting to cause Hannibal more pain. “She’s at rest now though.”

“It's quite alright. She is at rest and that is what matters,” Hannibal said, finishing his drink. “I wish I had known she was with me. I felt her often, but thought it nothing more than the staggering loss I've felt since she was murdered by those savages who called themselves men.”

Ah, that explained a few things. “It’s no wonder she stuck around,” Will sighed and took the last of his drink down. “I hope her message gave you some sort of peace.”

“It was something to make me ponder,” Hannibal said, knowing he likely couldn't stop. It was just who he was. “Knowing she is at peace, brings me the same.”

“Good,” Will said, nodding his head, he wouldn’t push on the subject, it was personal after all.

“Would you like more whiskey?” Hannibal offered, holding his empty glass in hand as he gave Will a questioning look.

Will stood, with his glass, and nodded, willing to follow. “Yes, please.” He had nowhere to be tonight, luckily.

Hannibal rose to his feet with a smile and nodded once, gesturing as he lead Will out of the room. At the bar, he refilled both if their glasses and leaned casually against it. “I am not much of a whiskey drinker myself. It would please me if you take the rest home with you.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Will said, honestly, blinking at Hannibal’s offer. “You should keep for the next time.”

The doctor smiled wider at that and nodded again. “Very well. It shall be here, especially for you,” he promised, elated that Will mentioned there being a _next_ time.

Will saw no other option to it but that he’d be here again at some point. He might just need that whiskey. He sipped his refilled drink. “You really do throw dinner parties?”

“Yes, that I do,” Hannibal answered, wondering what was behind the question. He took a drink of his brandy and licked his lips.

“I thought Alana was making that up,” Will gave a weary grin at that, and sighed, the alcohol buzzing through his veins now.

“You must have a deep aversion to the notion of dinner parties,” Hannibal chuckled, arching a brow in question as he swirled the contents of his glass.

“Being social with a lot of people is not my idea of a good time,” Will chuckled. “My parlor trick is cute in intimate groups of one on one, not one on two dozen.”

“I can see where it would be a burden,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully before taking another slow sip. “I imagine it made going to school and the academy quite challenging.”

“I managed, but I do try to avoid at all costs,” Will shook his head, leaning on the bar counter. “This is nice though.”

“The intimacy of the setting does make for a more pleasant experience,” Hannibal agreed, feeling light and warm.

“I'll be honest, I didn't want to talk to you at all,” Will admitted, looking into his glass once more. “I don't like people inside my head, but after Hobbs… maybe I need someone who understands.”

Hannibal quirked a brow at that. If Will thought he could understand--which he could--to what extent did he think he was able to comprehend? Did he know? Did Mischa say more than Will had admitted to? He was curious to find out. “Most do not wish to have therapy,” he said with a grin and then took another sip. “By me being able to see inside your mind, it means you in turn, given your gift, can see in mine. So yes, I do understand, to a degree. I am a doctor after all.”

“I’ll get peeks inside of yours,” Will corrected, aware that Hannibal would be far more inside of his than the other way around. “You’re the only one that knows about the… spirits.”

“And anything you tell me is confidential, Will,” Hannibal assured, taking the last sip of his second Brandy. “As our friendship grows, you will come to learn more about me, but my concern is for you.”

Will shrugged, taking down the last bit of his drink, his head was a little fuzzy feeling now, his motor skills fine. “Am I a concern?”

“Your health and well being are a concern, just as people usually feel about their friends. I am a doctor so that feeling is amplified,” Hannibal explained, gesturing towards the whiskey bottle if Will wanted more.

“But am I one? A concern for more than is necessary?” Will popped the top of the bottle, feeling he could be here a while anyway, no rush. He poured himself another few fingers.

“Are you inquiring as to my feelings on you personally or if you are a burden?” Hannibal asked, not wanting to give too much away unless Will was ready to hear. He refilled his own tumbler as well. “Let's continue this on the patio, under the stars.” Outdoors was where Will seemed comfortable. It should prove useful.

Will nodded and followed Hannibal, gathering up his glass in one hand. “Any of it. Is… does Jack think I’m a concern?”

“He was concerned about your mental stability,” Hannibal answered, his face tilted to the moon. He took a drink and then turned to look at Will. “Until I rubber stamped you. He trusts my judgement, Will. More than that is more concerned with utilizing your gift than anything else.”

“Yeah, I know. He also knows I couldn’t live with myself not helping,” Will sighed, and took a seat on one of the deck chair, gazing up at the stars.

“He counts on that, yes,” Hannibal agreed and then went to sit in the deck chair next to Will. He took a moment to admire his profile before taking another drink.

Sipping his own drink, Will looked over at Hannibal, the air a little crisp, but he didn’t mind it. “I just do what I can. Hope the next one doesn’t attached to me like Hobbs has.”

“You intend on killing again?” Hannibal asked, more rhetorically since it was stated as such. He hid his smile by taking another sip. “How did it make you feel when you ended Garret Jacob Hobbs’ life, Will?”

“I don’t intend to, no,” Will retorted quickly, a bit agitated at the very idea. “Horrible... awful...” Will hesitated, resigning with a sigh. “Good.”

“I merely ask because you said ‘the next one’,” Hannibal explained, inwardly amused by the agitation. He then canted his head a tick, pursing his lips before speaking. “Killing feels good to God too. He does it all the time. Just last week he dropped a roof on his beloved followers while they sang a hymn.”

Will rolled his eyes. “And did God feel _good_ about that?”

“He felt _powerful_ ,” Hannibal rumbled, yet almost speaking in a whisper.

Will took that moment to let it sink in and sipped his drink, feeling himself grow looser by the sip. Hannibal, being the patient man that he was, gave Will his silence and space. He had several thoughts during that time but none he wanted to share just then.

Will downed his drink with a sigh. “I don’t really much believe in God.”

“I merely admire the notion of Him, and of His work,” Hannibal said, finishing his drink in a few purposeful sips. He didn't believe in God. _He_ was his own Deity.

“Lots of people do,” Will shrugged his shoulders. Most would find it strange he didn’t believe in God, given his abilities, but Will found it made the idea of an Almighty that much unrealistic.

“Were you raised in church, Will?” Hannibal asked, crossing his leg as his fingers trailed over the armrest of his chair. He wanted to know more about his upbringing, it was his foundation, as it was for everyone.

“No. My father said we would, but he was never sober enough to follow through,” Will said as he got to his feet, hands in his pockets as he paced.

Hannibal watched Will, head canted up, and laced his hands together on his lap. “Do you resent him?”

“I resent him for a lot of things,” Will replied, pausing in his wake. “We don’t talk. Haven’t in years.”

“Did your resentment for your father make it easier to save Abigail from hers?” Hannibal asked, standing up and moving towards Will, almost stalking there as the conversation truly had his blood pumping with fiery delight.

“Maybe,” Will said, having not thought about that bit himself. “I always wished my father was more involved. I want to be a better father…”

“What sort of father would you be?” Hannibal asked, always poking and prodding to get down to the root of what made Will Graham tick.

“A good father,” Will stated, matter of fact. He’d be the sort who would do anything for his child, hands down.

“And I can tell by the conviction in your voice, you mean every syllable, even without an impending child,” Hannibal said, his lips twitching minutely into a smile. “Perhaps you will be then, to Abigail.”

“We both will,” the brunet pointed out, head canted slightly. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel a little responsible.”

“Yes, we’re her fathers and I do. I feel an undeniable amount of obligation,” Hannibal admitted, looking at Will intensely. “I often fantasize scenarios where my actions might have given a different fate for Abigail or that I might have somehow been able to help her.”

“You’re not the one that unloaded ten rounds into her father. You did everything,” Will said with a gesture of his hand toward Hannibal.

“No I didn't,” Hannibal agreed and touched Will’s shoulder once. “Let's go back inside, hm? Perhaps another drink?”

“Only if you’ve got an extra bed for me to sleep on,” Will joked, shaking his head.

“I have several, actually,” Hannibal grinned and opened the door for Will, stepping aside to let him enter.

“One more drink then,” Will said, gathering his glass and walking back into the house once more.

“Perfect idea,” Hannibal smiled and walked over to refill their glasses. He tipped his tumbler towards Will and then took a slow sip. “I'm enjoying your company.”

Will smiled bashfully at that, hiding it behind his tumbler of whiskey. “You’ll change your mind.”

“Don't count on it,” Hannibal winked once and licked his lips before setting his drink on the bar. “My mind's made up already.”

“Prepare to be disappointed,” Will chuckled, sipping the drink as his vision started to blur just a little.

Hannibal was a bit tipsy himself, which was a rarity but he didn't mind sharing in the lack inhibition with Will. “Prepare to be disappointed yourself, Will, because I will not be.”

Will laughed, offering Hannibal a hazy smile as he tipped back more of his drink. It was early yet, and losing himself to a new and friendly, easy conversation was enlightening and new. “Disappointed that you haven’t been disappointed?”

Shaking his head, Hannibal smiled and picked his drink up sip some more. Licking his lips again, he gave the empath a sort of playful look. “No. I had no expectation of disappointment, therefore I'm wondering if you were hoping I'd be and since I am not, you're now entering into your own… disappointment.”

Taking a deep breath, swallowing down another gulp, setting the glass down on the counter. “It’s a vicious circle in my mind, Doctor.”

“Then what you need is someone to offer you detours or alternative pathways,” Hannibal offered, doing the same with his drink as he leaned against the bar, body angled towards Will.

Something about Hannibal drew Will in like a moth to a flame, dangerous and unpredictable of the outcome, but aware that the flame would surely burn. Still, Will couldn't quite put his finger on it. “That's what you're here for, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Hannibal answered in agreement, after all that is what psychiatrists did even if Hannibal’s assistance could be seen as unorthodox at times. “For that and help you relax a bit,” he smiled, charmingly.

“Am I so uptight?” Will asked, teasingly, giving the doctor an incredulous look, considering he was the one still in a three piece suit.

“Uptight and guarded are different things,” Hannibal chuckled, smoothing down the very fine suit he wore. He kept his eyes locked onto Will, no detours or alternative pathways for himself when it came to that.

Catching himself watching Hannibal’s hands, Will turned his attentions back to the glass, a sip left. “Do you wish to disarm me?”

“I wish you to feel as though you do not need the proverbial weapon with me at all,” Hannibal explained, having noticed the way Will’s stunning eyes had followed his hands, briefly. It was inspiring.

Biting into his lower lip once, Will tipped the last of his drink past his lips and swallowed. With a clink, he set the glass down heavily on the counter. “I’ve always had it, weapon in hand, ready to defend myself should someone jump the forts.”

Hannibal finished his drink and then set the empty tumbler down, pursing his full lips in thought. “Perhaps things would go better if you allowed for a permissible breech now and then. No surprises in your fort then, no need for that tried and true weapon.”

“I’ve been burnt before,” Will commented with a sigh, leaning on the counter with both forearms, tongue feeling slippery and loose. “No one really wants to be alone, or lonely. I’m no different, but it’s too much sometimes to try and trust _everyone_.”

“The key is finding one person, or even a couple that trust. Do not allow them all in, no,” Hannibal said, his own tongue just a smidgen looser as well. “The fires that once burned you will no longer exist unless you keep feeding the all consuming flame.”

“I don’t know that I can afford to do that,” Will replied, taking a deep breath as his skin heated through from the alcohol.

“And as long as you continue to err on the side of safety, you'll never know if you could have or not,” Hannibal offered and gestured to the bottle again.

“Like a family, you mean,” Will commented with his glass out for more. He was here for the night, he may as well. “I can wish for a lot of things, but I’m not naive, I know that it’ll never happen.”

Hannibal refilled Will’s glass and then his own once more, touching his shoulder to move him towards the couch and the fire again. Sitting down, he looked at him and sucked his lower lip through his teeth, contemplatively. “And is one of your gifts also predicting the future, Will? You cannot say never, unless you've seen it otherwise.”

Will had premonitions, but he’d keep that to himself, as they were never cut and dry or clear. He laid back into the couch, one arm over the side of the couch where he held his glass, his limbs loose and relaxed. “It’s a gut feeling, but maybe I can be made to be wrong.”

“Gut feelings are meant to warn, not entirely for dissuading,” Hannibal explained and smiled at Will, seeing him with that posture. “At least you're open enough to allow someone to prove that feeling wrong,” It was the tiny cracks that he was looking for, like a snake trying to slither inside a house.

“I’ll be the first to admit it if someone proves me wrong,” Will insisted, watching Hannibal with keen eyes, his interest was still the same, just brimming below the surface.

Hannibal felt it too, his own whispering in the shell of his person suit. He nodded, taking slow sips of his brandy. “Good.”

After a few seconds of mindful quiet, Will took a sip, grinning against the rim of the glass. “I haven’t been properly drunk with anyone since college.”

Grinning back at Will, Hannibal’s eyes narrowed playfully, a glint present there. “Well, then I'm pleased to be given the honor,” he said, his words deeper, raspier from the alcohol. “I can only recall one other time when I was, beyond what I'm approaching now.”

“I don’t see you as the type to let loose often, Doctor Lecter. You have a very tight hold on your own reigns. You’re not much different than myself, there,” Will explained, the words tumbling out before he could rethink them.

“We are alike,” Hannibal agreed, his finger resting against his own sharp jaw briefly as he beheld the beauty that was inside, as well as outside, of Will. “And perhaps I don't but I am now. Here. With you.”

“Maybe a little,” Will admitted, flushed up to his ears, hidden partially under his mop of curls. He reached up and undid one of the buttons on his shirt, revealing slim collarbones.

Will’s scent became even more apparent at that, and Hannibal flared keen nostrils to take him in, finding his aroma all too appealing. “Quite a bit, I'd wager, Will.”

The awful aftershave had long since worn off, and Will was sweating a little, so his own scent masked a lot of the lingering smell. “We’ll see.”

It was a gift for Hannibal. He'd rather smell Will’s natural scent than that cheap aftershave. “That we will,” he said and leaned just a bit closer, but not invasively. “This has been quite a delightful evening. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes,” Will agreed, nodding his head once as he took another sip, the whiskey slipping down his throat without so much as a burn now, placated and warm.

Hannibal found himself watching Will’s lips before he then took a sip of his drink once more. “I'm pleased to hear we are on the same page,” he said and leaned forward to remove his suit coat, loosening his tie as the warmth from the brandy washed over him. Swiftly, he hung it up and sat back down. “There. Much better now. It is quite warm by the fire.”

“It is,” Will said, watching Hannibal’s trim form come loose of a few of the confines, seeing parts of the doctor he never thought he would, at least not so soon. This wasn’t a professional visit after all, it was personal, and perhaps even friendly.

The rich cologne, combined with the doctor’s clean, yet manly scent was present as he stood once more. “Shall we move elsewhere?” he asked, knowing it would only grow warmer there by the light of the blazing hearth.

“Where is elsewhere?” Will asked, standing once more, free hand out to steady himself on Hannibal’s shoulder.

Hannibal swallowed and didn't move, letting Will utilize him as he saw fit. “Well,” he began, his voice a rich, rumbling timber, “outside once more, the study, the eating spaces, or if you're growing weary… the bedroom.” He wasn't exactly insinuating but more giving the options.

“It’ll take a lot more to knock me down,” Will whispered roughly, eyes meeting Hannibal as he smiled, very slight wrinkles crinkled there.

“I wouldn't imagine you are lacking in stamina,” Hannibal murmured, his eyes flicking from Will’s hues to his lips, and back again.

Flushing a deeper shade of crimson, Will swallowed hard, and dropped his hand from Hannibal’s shoulder slowly, licking his bottom lip. “Hardly,” he whispered. “Anywhere else is fine.”

Hannibal grinned, a charming, twitching thing, teeth exposed and then nodded. “A refill and then back on the patio? It is much cooler there.”

“Okay,” Will said, downing the last bit of his drink, much warmer now, he undid one more button and rolled up his sleeves.

The Doctor removed his tie, setting it on the coat rack as they passed and then undid two of his buttons, exposing just a tuft of chest hair. After he refilled their drinks, he lead Will out back again, holding the door open. “After you…”

Will pressed his lips together in a grim line, wondering if it were just his muddled mind that made him look Hannibal over, or if there really was something there he couldn’t quite grasp. He’d never been good at grasping. Will walked out, taking his glass from Hannibal and sighed openly as the breeze blew through his hair.

“That’s better.”

“Indeed it is,” Hannibal said, taking the opportunity to look at Will’s round, muscular ass while his face was turned elsewhere. He licked his lips and then closed the door behind him, stepping up next to the empath. “A beautiful sight.” He was referring to several things.

Glancing over at Hannibal, shoulder to shoulder now, Will nodded. “It’s almost surreal.”

“Precisely,” Hannibal said, looking right back at Will as the wind blew a few straight strands into his eyes. “It feels that way and yet here it is. Here we are, partaking in the splendor.”

Slowly nodding once more, Will looked back to the night sky and sipped his whiskey, letting the peacefulness of it all wash over him as his mind relaxed, no longer focused or not focused on everything around him. Hannibal stayed silent, just enjoying the presence of Will at his side, of the alcohol coursing through his system. It was perfect, even just this.

“Thank you, for having me,” Will murmured with another sip, looking at Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. He was so awkward, he always was, and he didn’t do these things, not that this was a _thing_ , but… He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d regret these thoughts in the morning.

“My pleasure, I assure you,” Hannibal whispered, and angled his body towards Will, his shirt blowing open a little more at the neck as he all but burned holes in the empath. He certainly had thoughts. Quite a few at the moment. After taking another pull of his brandy, he leaned over to set it on the patio table, coming back up from the bend even closer to his guest than before.

Will turned toward Hannibal, licking drops of whiskey from his lips, eyeing up every piece of skin Hannibal had showing, which wasn’t much admitted, but Will couldn’t keep his eyes off the tuft of silver and dark hair that peaked out of Hannibal’s shirt. “I hope you don’t work tomorrow, we’ll be miserable in our hangover together.”

“Blessedly no, I have the day at our disposal,” Hannibal explained, the corners of his mouth lifting in what could be seen as a seductive smile - which is precisely what it was intended to be seen as, especially with the way Will was looking at him. “Fortunate for us both that I know just how to take care of a hangover. It starts with water tonight.”

“We should probably start that bit soon,” Will murmured, quieter between them, his latest glass nearly empty, his head swimming pleasantly, still warm getting warmer when Hannibal looked at him that way.

“When we finish our current drink, I’ll procure some water for us. A bite to eat as well, if you require it,” Hannibal said, and then licked his lips, mirth in his eyes. “I would hate to send you to bed without giving you anything you might find yourself craving.”

Will’s breath came out shaking a moment as he pushed the glass to his lips once more to take another sip, but his gaze remained on Hannibal. “That would be rude of you, if you did.”

“It would and rudeness is something that I cannot abide,” Hannibal murmured, his lip curling in a little lusty snarl when he said the word ‘cannot’. He picked up his glass, eyes staying on Will and rubbed his lips on the rim of his tumbler, imagining briefly they were on something else. A slow sip was taken and he swallowed with an audible click. “As such please do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Of course not,” Will slurred, dumping the last of his drink down his throat, glass set down. He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth once, worrying the flesh as his muddled mind struggled to make out exactly what was happening here. His body leaned in, just a little more.

Hannibal finished his drink as well and then set the glass down, following Will’s body language. He leaned in a fraction also, placing his hand on the man’s bicep as though he might be stabilizing himself. “Good. I merely wish for you to find your stay, fulfilling.”

Will did not self indulge often, or ever. When he was found wanting with desire, it was always one sided on his part, but even drunk his empathy was pulling him in, as if Hannibal had a lasso around his heart. “I could think of a lot of ways it could be.”

“Can you?” Hannibal rasped, his eyes once more trailing down to Will’s luscious mouth. He held his gaze, his face moving in inch by inch and stopping just a centimeter from the plush flesh he was staring at. “I happen to know of a quite a few myself…”

Taking a breath, Will leaned in and brushed their lips together, taking his time, feeling the situation out the best he could, all while giving them both the moment to back away if necessary. He pressed his palm against Hannibal’s waist, trailing it up to his chest. Hannibal didn't back away, but he'd stop if Will requested. Since he hadn't yet, the doctor slid both of his hands to gently hold the other’s face, a sharp inhalation of breath resounding when he pressed their mouths closer together.

Not yet. Will hadn’t had real human contact like this in years, and his body trembled for it, leaning in more to Hannibal to absorb his heat, his energy. Their mouths locked, but it wasn’t pushy, or greedy, just fluid and curious. Hannibal traced the sharp curve of Will’s scruffy jaw, back around his ear, and into his soft curls as he gently licked at that perfect Cupid's bow. Will’s mouth was just as decadent as the doctor had imagined and he was only scratching the surface now.

A soft moan escaped his mouth as Will depended it still, letting their tongue glide lazily together. His fingers grasped at Hannibal’s shirt where the buttons were undone, fingers skimming the splay of chest hair there. Will had never been much to say which sex he preferred, always going with his gut, and right now his gut was more definitely trained in on Hannibal. A deep groan, nearly a growl, vibrated from Hannibal's chest, up his throat, and into Will’s mouth; he tightened his hold on his curls and turned his head to the side to allow for even deeper passes of slick muscle. It was exquisite.

Will heated from the core out, ever expanding as their bodies flushed together and the cool wind whipped around them. Will was hungry for the intimacy, so much that his less inhibited mind sought out the very thing he was trying to keep down otherwise. Feeling it, smelling the arousal, Hannibal’s kiss became more ravenous. He backed Will against the pillar and pressed his body flush against his, as deft doctor’s hands found the soft swell of the agent’s posterior to knead there.

Fingers sought out agency on Hannibal’s neck, skimming over the soft texture of his skin as Will finally pulled away, panting, needing to take a breath of the cool air around then, dizzy with lust and alcohol.

“Succulent,” Hannibal murmured on a breathy pant of his own, his heart thudding like a herd of elephants. He adjusted himself, as discreetly as he could as the feel of Will’s lips on his own still remained there, etched in stone in his memory palace.

Will panted, licking his lips to still feel and taste Hannibal’s lips there. It was so unpredictable, and so what he really needed after all the shit that week. “That’s… that’s the word you’re going to use?” Will smiled.

“It's quite applicable. Your lips, your tongue,” Hannibal began, the impulse to move forward again almost too strong to resist. But he did. He wasn't one to force or rush. Not unless there was a reason or purpose that served him. “They are both extraordinarily succulent, Will. Better than any meal I've ever consumed.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Will chuckled, lightly, and then kissed Hannibal again, wanting to refresh his memory, put it somewhere deep inside. By morning, who knew what they would make of this.

Hannibal knew, had known, and would continue to, but he was intrigued to see how Will would feel. All of that was temporarily pushed aside though as he was kissed. He wrapped his well corded arms around the brunet and pressed his fingertips into the muscle of his back, over the shirt his wore. Will hummed into it, tugging Hannibal closer as his arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, chest to chest once more. He could get used to this.

An audible growl finally rumbled out at that and his hands found their way back to Will’s ass once more. He pulled him closer, into his groin by those muscular cheeks and sucked on his tongue with fervent abandon.

“Doctor Lecter-” Will managed, nipping at his bottom lip as he took a breath, trying to slow down the race of his heart and the head thrum of blood rushing through his ears.

“Will-” Hannibal said in response, as he took a breath with him and eased the grip he had on his ass. He had to actively push the beast back into its cage, his person suit blurring and threatening to melt away with the heat of their passion.

Drunk at his therapist’s house was not the ideal way to get laid, Will knew that, and he knew he’d feel all sorts of awful ways if he did. “We should get that water,” he suggested, still catching his breath.

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed, wanting Will to be of his right mind before - if - they make love. He let him go, reluctantly and cleared his throat, licking his own lips. Opening the door, he gestured with a smile, “After you.”

Glasses in hand, Will walked in and set them shakily in the sink. His mind was aloof and his skin was abuzz with new found fervor that he wasn’t what he would do with himself now. Maybe he could feign too drunk to remember, but when he looked at Hannibal, he knew the doctor would never believe it.

Hannibal looked back at Will, and got two glass bottles of water from the fridge, handing one over. He sat down on the chair around the breakfast island and gestured toward the other in offering. “I can hear the gears turning, Will,” he said and then a ‘tick tock, boom’ sound, chuckling afterwards. “What is on your mind?”

“I’m not too sure, it’s a bit of a mess right now,” Will said as he slid down into the seat beside Hannibal, taking a sip of the refreshing water. “Not… not in a bad way, just…” Will breathed out. “It’s overwhelming.”

After taking a few drinks of his own, Hannibal turned to Will and nodded. “Understandable, of course,” he said, preparing himself even in his current state. “I trust you know I would not rush or obligate you?”

“I do,” Will said with an easy smile. “You’ve made me feel myself tonight, even with the drinks. It was nice to let go for a bit.”

“My home is always open to you,” Hannibal said, unable to stop a smile from playing on his lips in return. “It is a gift to see you in such a way, Will. I hope so see more, eventually.”

Nodding, Will took another long sip. “I think eventually we’ll see a lot more of each other.”

“Indeed,” Hannibal agreed, taking more water in as well. His heart beat faster at the prospect of seeing more of Will, of getting to know him - and vice versa - in ways that no one else had. “I look forward to that.”

Will wanted to explore it sober, even though his mind was so clearly intent on getting to know Hannibal either way. Will licked his lips, ducking his head. “It’ll be interesting.”

Just as Hannibal had promised - interesting. He nodded, licking his own lips as he watched Will’s. “That it will,” he said, his tone still rough from their kissing and the lust still swirling in his belly. Another time would be fine and the attraction wasn't purely physical anyway, it was mental. “Do let me know when you require sleep. It is something I need very little of and I do not wish to tire you out. Not yet.”

“You’re just as drunk as me, you should sleep,” Will insisted as he finished the bottle of water. “We could rest together.”

Hannibal finished his as well and then rose to his feet, touching Will’s shoulders from behind him now. He leaned forward and kissed his cheek, near his ear. “I’d like that quite a lot, Will. Shall we then?”

“Yeah,” Will slid off and followed, barely, latching on to Hannibal’s arm.

Hannibal turned out the lights as they went and lead Will upstairs, into his large master suite. He separated from him long enough to turn down the bed and begin undoing his dress shirt. “I wouldn't presume how you sleep, Will, but I have pajamas if you should need them.”

“I sweat through them, it’s useless,” Will murmured as he dressed down to his boxers and sunk into the bed that was much nicer than any bed he’d ever owned.

“Agreed,” Hannibal crooned, though he was curious about the first bit. He decided then that boxers was how he would sleep as well, usually choosing his silk pajama bottoms. He got into bed as well and reached over Will to turn off the light, laying on his back with an outstretched arm in offering. “Perhaps tonight you'll find you rest easier.”

Will bit lip once before crawling under the covers and curling up next to Hannibal, leaning into his side. He’d never shared a bed like this with a man before, but he found Hannibal warm and cozy in his hazed state. “Perhaps.”

Hannibal enveloped Will in his arms and smelled of his hair, kissing his brow with a hum. It was new for him also, in the sense that it was the first time he actually _wanted_ to share his bed with another. “Goodnight, William.”


	3. Chapter 3

At eight the next morning, Will was awoken by his phone going off somewhere in Hannibal’s room. His head ached, not too bad though considering. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled out of bed, searching for his pants. Finally he found it and answered. Quiet for a moment, he finally gave an affirmative answer and started to pull his clothes on quickly.

Hannibal woke and sat up, looking over at Will with sleepy amber eyes. “Good morning,” he said and rose from bed with an elegant stretch. “I presume that was Jack and you have no time for breakfast?”

“Breakfast to go? They found some people buried underground, still alive with mushrooms. I don’t know,” Will sighed, doing up his pants and looking for his shirt.

With a nod, Hannibal began to dress and then handed Will his shirt. He put his shoes on and buttoned up his own shirt, doing up his tie and then put on his suit jacket. After a few more minutes he'd gotten ready completely. “I'll make a quick breakfast,” he said, all the while contemplating what Will had told him and what they did last night. Multiple trains of thought at once.

“That would be great,” Will said, pulling his shirt on and then his flannel one, boots next, he followed Hannibal down to the kitchen. “I really need coffee.”

Hannibal began making coffee in the press and started up some eggs and sausage - much like their first meal together. Once the coffee was ready, he handed Will a mug and took up his own as the food cooked. “I was in need as well,” he chuckled around the mug. “How did you sleep last night?”

“All the way through,” Will said, “No nightmares.” Not that he’d mentioned those to Hannibal before. He put one lump of sugar into his coffee, helping himself, and then sipped it. “Oh my god.”

“Good, and likewise,” Hannibal said, referring to the sleep. He made a note about the nightmares. They could discuss that in therapy. He sipped his own coffee and then chuckled before starting to wrap up the breakfast in a container for Will to take with him, since he said he needed it to go. “Yes, I would have to agree.”

Will drank the coffee and looked at the container. “Thank you for this. Can… I call you later?”

Hannibal leaned in and kissed the corner of Will’s mouth, smiling there before moving back. “You're welcome, Will and yes. I would be disappointed if you didn't.”

“I don’t do phone conversations well, but I’ll try,” Will said taking the container in hand, he set the coffee down. He leaned in for another kiss, lingering.

“That is perfectly acceptable to me,” Hannibal murmured and kissed Will properly, slipping in his tongue a bit. He was pleased that he didn't seem remorseful for the night prior. At least not yet.

Will hummed and smiled against Hannibal’s lips. He was living in some kind of afterglow for the moment, and he wanted to relish it while it was there. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

“I shall be awaiting that very thing,” Hannibal said and stroked Will’s cheek before pecking him once more. He let him go then, and took his coffee up to take another sip. “I'll walk you out.”

They stopped for Will’s coat and he dug out his car keys. Stealing one more kiss from Hannibal he walked to his car. “Don’t be too bored without me,” he teased.

“I'm never bored, but I will be thinking of you and often,” Hannibal admitted, grinning at Will as he watched from the porch. “I'll see you soon, Will.”

***

Nothing bound. No restraints. Just naked bodies in graves, hooked to catheters, keeping them alive, but unconscious forever. Fungi-- _mushrooms_ \--growing from the soil, feeding from the person in the shallow grave. Will squatted down as he observed the scene, ready to call it that the man was never going to wake when a hand reached out and grasped his wrist, causing Will to fall back a moment with a gasp. In the grave was Hobbs, or who saw as Hobbs and as he got to his feet, paramedics rushing the grave, Will realized it wasn’t at all.

Just his ghost, again.

Will gave his report to Jack, everything he thought about it, which wasn’t too much, but he needed a minute to readjust, then he’d go back to work, find them later in the lab to throw around ideas. First, Will needed Hobbs out of his head.

***

Will had a quick phone conversation with Hannibal, just to ground himself, before going to the lab once more to look over the bodies. Price, Zeller, and Katz and himself all concluded that they had dug up someone’s mushroom garden, but what Will couldn’t wrap his mind around was why.

The conversation Will had with Hannibal before suggested that the mushrooms were being used to connect in ways humans couldn’t. It made sense, but as for motives, it made no sense.

***

That evening an article was published by Tattle Crime’s Freddie Lounds, and Hannibal sat at his desk, eyeing it. He'd warned her already to behave, he'd told her to comport herself properly and here she was, doing the opposite. The good doctor’s lips twitches into a snarling frown as he ran his finger over the sharpening scalpel nearby. “Naughty, Miss Lounds,” he said to himself.

***

In the end, Will ended up saving a life, a woman potted in soil in the back of a car that belonged to the pharmacist who was planting the mushroom farms. They tracked him to the hospital where Will had to shoot him in the shoulder to keep him down and away from Abigail. The man claimed to want to help him understand, but Will didn’t need that, he understood enough.

Abigail in her rightful resting spot, Will looked over at Hannibal, arms crossed over his body. “He almost killed her.”

“You saved her once more, Will,” Hannibal said, looking down at Abigail and then back to Will. “Did you feel that same sprig of zest when you took down the man who sought to put her in the ground as you did before?”

“I didn’t save her, it was my fault he found her at all. My name has been plastered all over the news,” Will sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes, his face. “It felt good, but… No, it felt good.”

“Particularly due to Miss Lounds’ meddling,” Hannibal said and then gave a subtle smile at Will’s last confession. “Abigail should rouse soon and when she does, Jack will want to speak with her, as we discussed prior. I feel as though a revisit to her home may be of use.”

“For who? Her or Jack?” Will asked, head canted at Hannibal, feeling more at ease with him around than he cared to say.

“Both, though Jack will only be thinking of himself and the bureau, as you well know,” Hannibal said, licking his lips in thought. “There are scenarios in which reenacting the crime can prove to heal her, free her from some of the trauma.”

“You think that’s a good idea? She’s not even out of the coma yet and people want to drag her back into the heat of it,” Will sighed.

“Once she is well enough, I certainly do,” Hannibal answered, placing his hand on Will’s arm as if to soothe him. “I don't think she would be happy in here anymore than you or I would.”

“No, but she can’t be let out on her own. She’s nowhere to go,” Will answered, quietly, not wanting for her to overhear if she was awake.

“She has us, Will, and I do not plan on letting her down,” Hannibal said, quiet as well as he held fast to his arm, his eyes warm. “I know you do not either.”

Will finally met Hannibal’s gaze and swallowed. “You’re right. We’re her parents now.”

Hannibal smiled and removed his hand, placing both in his pockets. “We are, and she needs us more than she knows. Soon enough she'll become aware of just how much.”

“What if she only wants to hate me?” Will suggested, looking at Hannibal’s hands for a moment once their contact was diminished.

“She may seem as though she does at first, but I'm sure she'll realize that you saved her life,” Hannibal reasoned and then stepped closer to Will. “Let’s get something to drink, Will. I do not anticipate she will wake just yet.”

“Okay,” Will whispered, more of a sigh than anything else.

Hannibal opened the door for Will, and once he was out, closed it carefully. “And perhaps we should have our coffee outside. You seem as though you need some fresh air.”

“Yeah, I could use some,” Will nodded, sticking very close to Hannibal’s side.

With a nod, Hannibal lead Will into the cafeteria and once they got their drinks, they walked out to a bench under some trees in the back of the hospital. It was cool out, a nice breeze rustling the changing leaves.

“Much better, yes?”

“Even though the coffee is horrible, yes,” Will agreed, letting out a long sigh as he blew on the hot coffee.

“It is,” Hannibal chuckled and blew on his as well, sitting on the bench with his face tipped up to watch Will’s mouth. “I'd love the opportunity to serve you some of my coffee again.”

“I’d enjoy that immensely,” Will whispered, smiling over the rim of his cup to take a tentative sip.

“Then you need only state the time and it shall be,” Hannibal grinned, focusing on that look of Will’s and the way his words seemed to float on the wind, straight to his heart.

“We’ll manage time, we’ll have lots of it I think, together,” Will commented with a coy brow raise at Hannibal.

“That is something I very much like the sound of,” Hannibal murmured, his eyes narrowed and burning with want for the empath.

As though able to feel it, Will ducked his head with a little flush. “Me too.”

“Then come to my home tonight and neither one of us will be left wanting,” Hannibal implored, quite liking the way Will was responding.

“You have to be slow with me, Doctor Lecter,” Will whispered, sitting a little bit closer. “I’ve never had this with a man.”

“Of course, Will, forgive me,” Hannibal said, softly, looking over at him. He placed his hand atop Will’s briefly and then moved it. “I will give you all the time that you require. I promise and I always keep my promises.”

Will smiled a bit more with that, cozying up to Hannibal, all he really wanted to do was kiss him again, to melt in his warmth and forget the craziness of the day. Hannibal wanted the very same thing, but he'd let Will hold the reigns. He did, however, wrap and arm around his shoulders, prepared to move it if he sensed any tension. They were secluded but still in a public setting. Will leaned in and sighed heavily, content as he drank his coffee.

“This is nice.”

Hannibal took a sip and then hummed, rubbing Will’s arm as a mini cyclone of leaves blew atop an unbagged pile nearby. “It is, yes,” he said, though practically anywhere would be nice with Will. “Perfect, despite the coffee.”

“The coffee is awful,” Will agreed with small chuff.

“A disgrace to good coffee everywhere,” Hannibal laughed, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he inhaled Will’s scent.

“Yes, yes it is.” But Will drank his anyway, needing the distraction.

Hannibal took a couple more sips of his own and then set it aside to place in the trash reciprocal once they headed back inside later. He didn't speak just yet, simply enjoying the feel of Will inside his grasp. The burgeoning want between them hung pleasantly, like a sweet fruit waiting to be plucked and savored.

Having tossed his own, Will let Hannibal keep his arm around him until they were in the hospital once more. Will pulled away the second Alana turned the corner.

“Where have you been?” she asked, blinking her eyes at them both owlishly.

“Coffee break,” Will murmured. “Why?”

“Abigail woke up.”

Hannibal disposed of his coffee and then clasped his hands behind his back, watching the interaction. “Has she said anything?”

“Not yet. I’m going to take her a bag of things that might help,” Alana said. “I was told you two were around. So, I thought I’d find you and tell you.”

“Thank you, Alana, we will go to her at once,” Hannibal said and then looked at Will. “I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture as well.”

Leading the way, Will stuck close to Hannibal as they walked back up the flights of stairs to Abigail’s room. She was no longer asleep, but awake, talking to a doctor briefly while as nurse checked all her vitals. Alana set the bag down near a table as Will tried no to stare, tried not to over empathize. Near the window Hobbs appeared, glared down Will, so the medium stared there instead.

Hannibal assessed everything, Abigail, her condition, Alana, but mostly Will’s reaction to it all. He stepped a bit closer, casting a brief look to the empath. “Hello, Abigail, I'm Doctor Hannibal Lecter.”

Abigail touched her throat and the doctor looked at the three of them. “We just had the tube removed, she’s not yet ready to speak.”

“Yes, thank you,” Hannibal said to the other doctor, having seen as much but he wanted to introduce himself nonetheless. Looking at her once more, he spoke again. “Abigail, this is Special Agent Will Graham. Blink if you remember him, please.”

Abigail nodded her head slowly but Will kept back, wanting her to have all the space she required. He did kill her father right in front of her. Alana touched Will’s arm gently, reassuringly.

Hannibal glanced at the touch, but didn't call attention to the fact that he'd been watching. Instead, he smoothed down his suit. “Once you're feeling better, we shall take you on a walk, you've been in bed for sometime but I assure you everything is going to be just fine.”

“That’s a good idea,” Alana said, nodding. Will’s gaze and attention was on Hobbs, bullet holes and all.

Looking at Will, Hannibal canted his head a minute fraction and then smiled at Alana before returning his gaze back to Abigail. “Would you like that, Abigail?”

Abigail nodded again.

Since Abigail seemed to be feeling well enough to go in her walk, Hannibal stepped closer to offer a helping hand. He turned back to look at Will, a silent invitation for assistance. They should both assist their surrogate daughter. Will tore his eyes from Hobbs long enough to go help Hannibal and Abigail.

“I’ll get her a wheelchair,” Alana suggested since the girl had been in a coma, it was best, she thought.

Hannibal had considered the very same but a walk was precisely that. He also knew that it was important to keep the blood moving to promote healing and that Abigail’s glucose levels were stable but he didn't challenge Doctor Bloom. “Thank you, Alana,” he said instead and once the chair was in place, helped her into it.

“It’s just in case she needs it,” Alana said, catching Hannibal’s look, and Will’s at the same time. “You don’t want her going down.”

“I wouldn't allow her to do so, and nor would Will,” Hannibal explained but took the breaks off the chair once Abigail was settled in. “Will you be accompanying us, Alana?”

“No,” Alana said, seeing that it was her making issues for them. “I’ll talk to Abigail later.”

“Good idea,” Will said and moved passed Alana to Hannibal’s side.

Hannibal smiled at that and nodded at Alana, beginning to push Abigail out of the room. A few moments later they were outdoors, the wind blowing through her hair with the sun shining down. “Much better I think, yes?”

“Yes,” Abigail managed, nodding her head, though she seemed apprehensive of them both.

“If you feel like walking, please let us know,” Will added, aware of her father’s ghost following them down the path.

“Do not strain yourself but I feel as though a bit of it would do you well,” Hannibal agreed with Will and smiled at her. “We have all been quite concerned for you.”

Will nodded, keeping an eye on the ghost behind them. “We just want what’s best for you, too.”

Abigail smiled a little at that, offered a hand to each of them to help her stand. Will took one and Hannibal took the other, slowly helping her to her feet. With a watchful eye and protective arm, they helped her walk slowly, making sure she was steady. Hannibal observed Will when he could.

“Abigail, what do you remember about that day?”

“Only a little. It went by fast,” Abigail said, not meeting their eyes. She looked at Will, at his shoes. “I… don’t blame you.”

Will swallowed, almost she he didn’t believe her, but he chose to for now. “Thank you…”

“He tried to kill me, so you saved me.”

Hannibal and Will walked her to a nearby bench to let her rest, helping her sit before the doctor looked around, hands in his pockets. “He tried to kill you, yes, but he loved you all the same.”

“I should have known he would sooner or later,” Abigail said, looking at her own hands.

“It's not your fault, and if it's any comfort, you brought out that love,” Hannibal offered, looking at Will briefly and then back to her. “Do you find yourself thinking that if he'd killed you, the other girls would have been safe?”

“Yes,” Abigail said and looked at the doctor while Will shifted his jaw.

“I doubt it. He would have killed you and then still gone after them, he was going to be without you.”

“Agreed,” Hannibal nodded, looking at the way Abigail's face seemed to show emotion over the girls. It was curious, and he wasn't convinced that she didn't help her father hunt.

“Some people love a lot differently than others,” Will said, shrugging. “His was just… not a good way of showing it.”

“Yes,” Hannibal nodded and looked at the way Abigail watched them both, how she seemed to be assessing who she could and could not trust. “Should you find you're having nightmares, Abigail, we can help with that.”

“I just woke up, I don’t think I’ve had any yet,” she said, quietly, absently touching the scar on her throat wrapped in gauze.

“Good, but know that they may come, and you can not avoid them at first, but as I said we can assist there,” Hannibal assured, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“Okay,” she agreed, quietly, peering at Hannibal from under her long lashes with vibrant blue eyes. She seemed to be assessing him.

Hannibal noticed and did the same - had been - to her. He found he truly felt a sort of fatherly affection for her, or perhaps that of teacher and student. “Once you can eat, I'll bring you something more suitable than the food here,” he offered.

“It’ll be soup or applesauce for a while,” Abigail said with a little smirk, clearly taking a liking to Hannibal, like she knew something Will didn’t.

“Soup happens to be one of my specialties,” Hannibal smiled, reaching over to touch her shoulder. He looked at Will, wanting to see how he was responding to the closeness.

Will was more focused at Hobbs leering behind them, though it was becoming clear the ghost was not here for his daughter, but rather to torment Will, his killer. “He makes good food either way.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal smiled at Will, canting his head.

“Abigail, are you ready to go back to your room?”

The girl nodded her head, tired as it was, she needed her rest. Will helped her to her feet once more and then to the chair. Hannibal let Will push her this time, hoping to bring them together a bit more and walked beside them until they got her back to her room.

Once she was in bed, he reconnected her IV and the other machines, checking her vitals. “There we are.”

Will raised a brow at Hannibal, as though questioning if he was supposed to be doing that, but said nothing. Abigail laid back in bed, perfectly content. Alana cleared her throat. “If you’re all done, I need a few moments with Abigail please.”

“Certainly,” Hannibal answered, and then looked at Will. “Shall we, Will?”

Nodding, Will followed Hannibal out, shutting the door behind them. “We may have overwhelmed her.”

“Alana? Yes likely,” Hannibal grinned, knowing Will meant Abigail. “I do believe she is fine. She's stronger than she looks, Will.”

“I know, I know…” Will waved it off. “Her father hangs around when I’m near her, but he’s not haunting her.”

“He's haunting you then? Punishment for the fact that you killed him before he could take his daughter with him?” Hannibal surmised, quizzical barely there brows raised.

“I think so. I’ve been ignoring him. All he says is “see” anyway,” Will sighed.

“What do you think he wants you to see?” Hannibal asked, leading Will out of the hospital, back to where they'd been before which was also on the way to the parking garage.

“I don’t know,” Will shrugged, keeping up with Hannibal as they walked. “I don’t know yet.”

“That's perfectly fine,” Hannibal answered, only wanting to open the door a bit more to the notion. “He could be referring to what you did. How you felt about doing it or maybe he simply wishes for you to see things from his point of view.”

“I don’t like possession,” Will snapped, his nerves were on edge, and he immediately looked at Hannibal with an apologetic frown.

Hannibal nodded once and gestured toward the bench. “Here or perhaps back to my home for a drink?” he offered, not bothered by the outburst in the least.

“I gotta get home,” Will sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dogs.”

“If you want company, I would go with you, or you may need some time to decompress,” Hannibal said knowingly, at least that Will did need space sometimes, and more than most.

“You can come if you want,” Will offered, shrugging. “You should meet the pack.”

“I would be honored to meet your pack, yes,” Hannibal smiled and started walking towards the parking garage with Will.

Will dug around in his pocket and found an old receipt and wrote his address down on it and handed it to Hannibal. “It’s not too hard to find, but it’s out there.”

“I don't mind the drive, if it leads me to you,” Hannibal smiled, and held Will’s hand a moment after taking the paper, thumbing over his skin as he gazed at him. “I'll follow you there.”

“It’s a little mundane,” Will offered as a fair warning, but smiled at the touch. It was so very new still, exciting. “I’ll meet you there.”

“I'm hardly ever bored,” Hannibal explained with a wink and then nodded. “Yes, I'll see you there, Will.”

An hour or so later, they arrived at Will’s quaint home with a large field, a grove of trees, and a stream near by. It was quiet. He got out of the car and walked to the door to quiet the dogs and let them out to sniff around Hannibal.

Hannibal let them, stooping a little and offering the back of his hand. He might not have been a dog person but he didn't condone cruelty to animals. “They are well behaved.”

“Well trained,” Will commented and let the dogs run around for a bit, knowing they’d be back, he had no worries. He held the door for Hannibal and then shut it behind them.

Taking a look around, Hannibal noted a couple of key elements: the bed, the lures, and the piano. He took off his suit coat and folded it over the sofa. “Do you play, Will?”

“Not really,” Will said, going to the kitchen to get out the things to make the dogs’ food and setting them on the counter.

That was a little disappointing but not surprising. Hannibal walked over, standing close but out of the way, with Will in the kitchen. “Do you always prepare their food?”

“Yes. Dry kibble is… gross, and canned food can be toxic,” Will explained, boiling a pot of water for rice, and then started to brown the turkey meat in another pan. “I make enough for a few days, but I’m out.”

“I agree. The same goes for the food many of us consume,” Hannibal nodded, knowing if he had a dog or pet in general he would insist on doing the same. “I must ask, why do you have your bed in your living room? Is it for convenience or to remain alert?”

“I feel safer,” Will said, shrugging his shoulders. “I like being with my dogs.” He cut up some carrots to throw in with the rice.

“Then that is reason enough,” Hannibal said, watching Will work. He was getting a look at the empath’s private world and he was fascinated. “I caught a glimpse at the lures you have. You do excellent work from what I can tell.”

“Thanks,” Will said quietly, raising one brow over at Hannibal and made room for him to help if he wanted. “It’s a hobby. But I am a good fisherman.”

“I have no doubts at all about that,” Hannibal said and went to wash his hands first. He rolled up his sleeves, pecked Will’s jaw, and took over browning the turkey. “You were able to catch me, so to speak.”

“I don’t think I caught you, I think you caught me,” Will admitted and handed Hannibal a spoon to push the meat around so it cooked evenly.

Hannibal certainly was in his element in an any kitchen, a master of his craft. He did so with the finesse of a chef, not settling for anything mediocre even if it was for dogs. With a smile at Will, he licked his lips. “Perhaps we were snared by the same hook, as it were.”

“Are we sharing a lure and line?” Will asked, putting the lid on the rice and carrots to let them cook.

“We are both on the hook and holding the pole at the same time,” Hannibal replied, speaking in riddle as he so often did. He put the spoon down, turning off the burner once the meat was ready to be drained.

Will rolled his eyes and handed Hannibal a bowl to toss the meat into. “I suppose.”

Hannibal took it and emptied the meat there, setting the pan and spoon aside to be washed. He checked the rice and leaned on the counter. “You sound uncertain.”

“Only time will really tell if it is exactly as you say,” Will answered, still uneasy about letting the doctor too close, in letting anyone too close.

“Of course,” Hannibal replied, making a note of Will’s suspicion and apprehension. He turned off the burner once the rice and carrots were finished. “You can decide when you're ready.”

“That doesn’t mean to say I don’t want to try,” Will added on, moving the rice and carrots to the bowl with the turkey, and mixed it all together for a complete meal for the dogs.

Hannibal washed his hands again and smiled, pleased at that last bit. “Good, I'm elated to hear it and hope to try to do what I can to quell and lingering doubts.”

“It’s not doubts in you,” Will insisted, blinking at Hannibal as he moved the big bowl to front porch to fill the dog dishes.

“Then what are your doubts, William?” Hannibal asked, running his hand down Will’s back as he joined him.

Will slopped food into the bowls as the dogs gathered around to start eating. “Myself. I don’t… do these relationship things well.”

“If it makes you feel better, I have not been in many myself,” Hannibal offered, his hands clasping behind his back.

Finishing feeding the dogs, Will gave Hannibal an incredulous look over his shoulder before straightening. “No?”

“No. I have seen others, yes, but none that I have felt the same connection to, like I do you,” Hannibal answered honestly, smiling at that look from Will.

Will nodded, understanding. “Don’t we all just want to be… seen.”

Hannibal took Will’s face then, gently, and kissed him, lingering over his lips. “Yes.”

Will was starting to get the picture of who Hannibal was, and he was sure Hannibal was getting who he was in return. Or, so he hoped. His eyes closed, hands resting on Hannibal’s forearms as their lips lingered together, nothing rushed. Slow. Hannibal was getting the picture, and to him, if was beautiful. He kissed him again, languidly, not in any hurry at all to bed him, it was more than that. He ran his fingers through his curls and sighed with contentment.

This Will could get used to. He smiled against Hannibal’s mouth, hands on his hips, pulling him just a little closer as a breeze whipped around them, making Will shiver. Hannibal’s lips and scent were growing ever more familiar to him, registering in his mind as a comfort, the forts slowly coming down. Hannibal smiled back, holding Will close, gripping his muscular back as he traced the other’s lips with his tongue. As he did, he committed every moment of this to memory.

Thankful for Hannibal listening to be slow, Will kissed him a little deeper, just enough, nothing frenzied, nothing overbearing. He hooked his arms under Hannibal’s and gripped his shoulders tightly, bringing them chest to chest. Hannibal was irrefutably in love, that much he knew as their hearts thudded together while they fed from each other's mouths. It was a great conjoining, in the doctor’s mind, a burgeoning becoming for not only Will, but their newfound relationship.

Sweeping his tongue into Hannibal’s mouth, Will deepened their lip lock further, every step--every level-- more and more intense, like they were blurring into one. “Hannibal…”

“Will…” Hannibal responded, all but chanting the other’s name before laving their tongues together, exploring his mouth thoroughly. He slid his hand down Will’s back, letting it rest atop his ass briefly and then back up again.

Pulling back to breathe, Will licked his lips once, gazing at Hannibal, panting softly. “Want a drink?”

Hannibal smiled and nodded. “Yes, please,” he answered, drawing a breath and then licking his lips also to taste Will’s flavor lingering there.

Will took Hannibal’s hand and lead him back inside, shutting the door to give the dogs peace to eat. “I have whiskey,” Will said, letting go of Hannibal’s hand to pull down the bottle and two small glasses.

“Whiskey will do just fine,” Hannibal said and then turned to discreetly adjust himself, pushing down his erection. He moved back once he had and put his hands in his pockets.

Will did the same, never having been one to be sexually active much, he couldn’t stop the way Hannibal was making him feel, inside and out. He poured up two glasses and handed one to Hannibal, fingers brushing.

Hannibal looked into Will’s eyes at the contact, his own dilated as he licked his lips again and took the glass. Moving it to his mouth, he took a sip, feeling the burn down his throat in a pleasant way. “Thank you, Will.”

“You’re welcome,” Will said, their eyes never leaving each others. He took a long sip of his drink, standing toe to toe with Hannibal.

Taking another drink, Hannibal felt heat in his core at the eye contact, his heart racing just from that alone. He could live off of that and their conversations, no sex needed even if he did want that eventually. “It goes down nicely.”

“Good old Jim Beam,” Will chuckled, taking another hearty sip of his, used to the heated sting. “It’s usually my night cap.”

“And I usually end the night with a glass of brandy by the fire,” Hannibal smiled, taking another drink. It wasn't his particular taste but he didn't mind it when it was shared with Will.

Still barely evening, Will knew they should eat before they drank unless they wanted another evening like the night before. “I’ve got some fish thawing in the fridge…”

“I'll gladly prepare it or assist if nothing else,” Hannibal nodded, thinking similarly. He liked being able to spend time with Will and was glad he'd get to stay for supper.

“I don’t know many dishes, so if you want something fancy…” Will shrugged and lead Hannibal to the kitchen. He pulled out the fish, already cleaned and deboned.

“I would be fine with anything you prepared, of course, but since I am here, I'll make it for us,” Hannibal offered, hugging Will from behind once, kissing his nape, and then letting go to look at the fish.

“Trout,” Will explained, plainly. “I usually bake and add rice.”

Hannibal nodded, and looked at Will. “Have you any almonds, parsley, lettuce, and lemon?” he asked, having a dish in mind but only if the ingredients were there.

Will’s lips pressed thin but then he was climbing cupboards and shelves to give Hannibal everything he asked for. “I don’t know how old the almonds are though.”

The doctor took the almonds and bit into one, to test it. It wasn't as fresh as he'd normally like but it would do. “This will be suitable, Will, thank you,” Hannibal said with a charming smile and then washed his hands to get to work.

“Can… do anything?” Will asked, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Hannibal cut his eyes up to Will, smiling subtly as he pulled out some olive oil he saw. “If you wouldn't mind chopping the parsley and cutting the lemon into wedges? Thank you, Will.”

“I can do that,” Will said, taking the produce to prepare, he minced the parsley perfectly and sliced the lemon into perfect wedges.

Impressed, Hannibal coated the pan, letting it heat as he seasoned the fish before putting them into the pan. As they began to cook, he made the lemon zest, keeping and eye on the filets that were frying on medium heat. The doctor then pulled out the lettuce and cut it up. “If you would like rice, I can make some as well, though this dish is usually served on its own.”

“This is fine,” Will said, not much of a picky eater honestly.

“Very well,” Hannibal nodded and once the fish was done, he removed them, wiped out the pan and seared the almond, lemon, and parsley. After that finished, he topped the fish, putting the lettuce leaves on the side. “If only we had some white wine to pair it with.”

“I’m afraid I know little about wine, let alone keep any,” Will chuckled. “I’ll try to stock up.”

“You needn't trouble yourself, Will,” Hannibal chuckled back and then took the plates to the table. “I have a few bottles I can bring over for such occasions, unless you just wanted to go procure some on your own.”

“You’d not like my taste in wine,” Will chuckled, taking a bite of the food as he sat down. It was better than his version of fish, that was for sure.

Hannibal grinned at that and then took a bite as well, humming at the taste. “Perhaps I can broaden your palate.”

“You’ve already started,” Will murmured around his fork.

“Yes, that I have,” Hannibal murmured back, taking a couple more calculated bites.

“Changes are good for people,” Will shrugged, not minding in the least with broadening his perspectives a little.

“That they are. Reinvention promotes growth and expands our horizons,” Hannibal hummed, taking the last bite of his fish, and then wiped his mouth. “It helps us _see_ what it is we want to be or do.”

Beside Will, Hobbs flickered, leering at him as he repeated the word ‘see’ once more. Will swallowed his bite with a nod, mulling that over. “Yeah…”

“Are you alright, Will?” Hannibal asked, wondering what was in his mind mostly. He took a sip of water and gently pushed his plate up a bit to have room for his hands.

“Sorry,” Will said, flicking his eyes back to Hannibal. “Can’t control when they come around.”

“No need to apologize at all, Will. Who was it this time?” Hannibal asked, leaning forward a bit as he waited to be told.

“Hobbs. I told you, he’s haunting me,” Will said and finished his meal. He stood, collecting the plates and went to rinse them off.

“You did, but since there could have been others I thought it best not to assume,” Hannibal said and then got up, walking over to help in the kitchen. “What do you surmise it will take to be rid of him?”

“My house is usually very silent, I’ve long since gotten rid of the ghosts here,” Will explained, shaking his head, washing the dishes.

“And there is no method in which you can remove him?” Hannibal asked, drying each washed dish.

“He’s haunting me personally, I’ve never dealt with that before,” Will said, setting the dishes in the washer.

“Perhaps an answer will present itself soon enough,” Hannibal offered, not in his element when it came to that but he would do anything he could to assist.

“I’ll do some research at work,” Will replied, and then brought the whiskey back over. “Want some more?”

“One more, please,” Hannibal said with a nod, hearing the dogs bark at the door to be let in.

Will got the door first and then poured them up glasses and sat back down with Hannibal, the dogs settling in by the fireplace, unlit. “You’re welcome to stay if you need… want to.”

“I want to, definitely, Will,” Hannibal said with a sweep of his tongue over his lips before taking a sip. He roved his eyes up Will’s form, to his eyes, and swallowed a sip of the amber liquid. “Thank you.”

“Only fair,” Will chuffed as he took a long sip of his drink, sitting back in his chair, legs splayed. He finally kicked off his boots, pushing them aside.

“And why is it fair?” Hannibal grinned, taking off his shoes as well, setting them neatly to the side of the sofa. He took another pull from his drink then and set it down, crossing one long leg over the other.

“Sleepover wise, it was your turn,” Will commented taking his cup over to sit on the couch.

“That it is, and I am quite pleased to be given the privilege of doing so,” Hannibal hummed, and then took another drink before turning to look at Will.

Will watched Hannibal, waiting to see if he’d join, glass cradled in his hands between his knees. “Not as… fancy as your place.”

Only having wanting to give a bit of sweet anticipation, Hannibal finally went and sat next to Will, smiling over at him. “It hardly matters as long as I am near you,” he said and placed his free hand atop the agent’s thigh. “I would like very much to kiss you again, William. May I?”

Will set his drink down on the side table, turning to anticipate Hannibal growing closer. “Yes.”

Hannibal set his down as well and then leaned in, his other hand going to Will’s scruffy jaw. He kissed him softly at first, enjoying the press of their lips as he inhale through his nose. Will’s hand rested on Hannibal’s shoulder, breathing him in as their lips pressed together, growing more and more used to their increased coupling.

Slipping his tongue out, Hannibal slithered into Will’s mouth, tasting the whiskey there. He hummed deeply and tilted his head to ensure a deeper kiss. Will’s hand slipped around Hannibal’s shoulders, cradling his head in the crook of his arm, pulling Hannibal to him tighter as their tongues wound together blissfully, eliciting a low moan from Will’s chest.

That perfect moan from Will made it difficult for Hannibal to keep composure, but he did, as his hand slid down the agent's body. His tongue sought and explored all of his mouth hungrily, blood rushing hot through his veins as he groaned. Will lost himself to all of it, blocking out anything but the rush of blood through his ears, heart beating faster and faster, like it might beat right out of his chest.

“Hannibal,” he managed, between catching his breath.

“Will,” Hannibal murmured, taking a breath as well before going back in and kissing Will back onto the couch. His cock was hard in his trousers, his scent musky, heady, and laced with the immense desire he felt for the man he was kissing.

Will laid back, legs spread to bring Hannibal between them, panting as they kissed, biting and nipping, losing himself to the feeling. Hannibal kissed down Will’s jaw, to his neck, which he inhaled and licked, teeth scraping over his pulse. Everything bit of Will was divinity personified, an idea made flesh.

Arching into Hannibal, Will groaned once more when he felt their hard lengths rubbed, making him shiver with need he’d not felt in years, a want he’d only had for Hannibal. It was all too much and consuming.

“William…” Hannibal murmured against Will’s skin like a prayer as he ran his tongue up to his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth. He breathed hot there, his hand holding his head as his cock thickened further.

It had been too long since Will had been with anyone, his body wound tight with pent up need, tension coiling through his core thickly. He hummed back Hannibal’s name, hips grinding up against Hannibal’s.

“Tell me what you want,” Hannibal whispered, snapping his hips down into Will, wanting very much to rid him of his clothing and get to know him thoroughly.

“To be touched,” Will whispered roughly, voice candied with lust. He reached to undo Hannibal’s tie, then his vest.

Hannibal took them off and then undid the buttons on Will’s flannel, running his hand over his smooth muscular chest. “I would never deny you a thing…”

Will arched into the touch, being stripped down by Hannibal was art itself, he realized. “I hope not.”

Everything about Will was art, in Hannibal’s mind, from his body, to his mind, and even the way he rolled his eyes. The doctor paused from his worship, long enough to undo his own shirt, taking it off to reveal tanned skin over muscle, topped with a thicket of salt and pepper chest hair. “You needn't hope, it is a fact as sure as we are breathing.”

Will carded his hand through the hair on Hannibal’s chest, tugging him back in with his free hand to kiss him again, heatedly, not wanting to lose the momentum they had created. “Good.”

Hannibal kissed Will back with wild abandon, slipping a hand between them to undo his trousers, and then the profiler’s pants. He licked down his neck, to his nipples, taking one in his mouth. Will moaned, hand in Hannibal’s hair, effectively messing it up. His hips arched into Hannibal’s hand as it grazed by his slacks.

Unable to wait any longer, especially with that delightful arch from Will, Hannibal slipped his hand inside the younger man’s pants, wrapping around his shaft as he groaned and bit at his other nipple.

“Hannibal-” Will gasped, heated of the other’s palm against him was the best thing he’d felt in years, and so much better than his own skin to skin contact.

Hannibal thumbed over the tip, spreading the precome to slicken the glide as he kissed down Will’s belly, towards his cock. “Will… you are truly magnificent.”

Breath getting heavier, Will watched Hannibal like he was some lucid dream he was having, something from the deepest corners of his mind. “Oh God…”

Flicking keen eyes to Will, Hannibal took his cock and rubbed his lips over the tip, licking down to his balls to taste him there. “Will-”

Will tried to squirm, tried to do anything but all he could do was writhe and press himself further into Hannibal’s grip, wanting more of his hot tongue and mouth. Hannibal kept his promise and didn't refuse him. He took Will’s cock into his mouth, forming a suction as his tongue swirled around the shaft and then the tip.

“Oh-” was all Will managed out as his hand shot to Hannibal’s hair once more, fingers clenching.

A rumbling growl slipped from Hannibal’s throat, into Will’s cock as he bobbed his head up and down, committing the experience to memory. He gathered saliva from his mouth and pulled his pants all the way off, placing his finger over Will’s pucker, not pushing in. The nerves there caused Will to writhe harder, air gasping in his throat, and his whole body felt on fire all at once. It was incredibly new, and incredibly soon.

Hannibal didn't want to rush Will, so he still didn't push his finger inside, and continued to massage it, from the pucker and up between there and his balls as the skilled doctor hollowed his cheeks, taking him down hungrily. It’d been too long though and Will was already seeping from his cock, threatening to explode right against Hannibal’s tongue. His fingers clenched, warning him.

Opening his throat, Hannibal used his free hand to chase his mouth, jacking Will off as his lips moved up and down his shaft, as his finger still massaged his hole. He wanted to taste his essence, drink him down.

“Hannibal-” Will warned but it was no use, Will came hot and heavy, pulsing his come down the doctor’s throat. He watched Hannibal take it, somehow even _more_ turned on see him in such a state.

Hannibal's lips were red and swollen, his eyes watery, as he licked Will clean, getting it all. He was greedy for the empath’s spend and he knew he was that way for all of him. “Decadent, William.”

“I’ve… never been blown that well, ever,” Will managed after a few gasped breaths.

Moving up Will’s body, Hannibal kissed him, holding his face as his cock pressed against him, pants off his hips a bit from the movement. “Then I am pleased to have been the first to give you that experience.”

“Yes,” Will whispered back and reached between them, taking Hannibal in hand. He wanted to give what he could, what he knew how to do.

Hannibal braced himself on his palms, holding his body up so Will could reach him better and groaned as he felt the warm, roughness of the hand wrapped around his cock. It was sublime. “Ah, Will-”

Will bit his lip as he focused on Hannibal, the sound of voice, his bated breath, the way he felt hard and rigid in his hand. “I want you to come…”

“I assure you, I am well on my way,” Hannibal grunted, his lips curling into a pleasure snarl as he looked down to watch Will’s hand on his olive tinted shaft. It was stunning. “Yes, Will, like that-”

Harder, faster, Will worked Hannibal with his palms, rough calluses rolling over soft skin with every pass. He bit Hannibal’s lip, sucking on it as he tasted himself there with the tinge of copper. Hannibal growled at that, pleasure surging through his veins as he neared release. He bit Will’s upper lip and drew blood also, savoring it.

Will groaned at the snapping pain, a flash, and then he jerked his wrist harder, faster, flicking over and over Hannibal’s shaft. “Come on…”

As if on cue, Hannibal came, hot ropes of come shooting up and over Will’s hand. He groaned, and kissed him harder, all but collapsing on top of him. “Will…”

Will worked him over through it, and finally came to a stop, panting with Hannibal from his exertion. “I’ve never done that…”

“It was beautiful, Will. Sublime,” Hannibal murmured and stroked Will’s face. “I'm honored to be the first.”

Until now Will had only ever been with a few people, and he was never entirely invested in it, but it was done out of need and getting off. This with Hannibal, he knew, would be much more fulfilling. “I’ll get better.”

“Then I shall look forward to that, but know that you were glorious, Will,” Hannibal assured and kissed him softly, rolling into his side on the ample sofa.

“Always room for some sort of improvement,” Will insisted, standing to go wash his hands, and then returned to slip in beside Hannibal once more.

“That is true about a great many things,” Hannibal agreed and wrapped his arms around Will. There was much he wanted to share with the man he deeply loved.


	4. Chapter 4

On Jack’s orders and Hannibal’s council, Doctor Lecter, Will, and Alana took Abigail back to her home. It became clear there to Hannibal that the girl was fond of him, and he also could see what others couldn't. It went both ways and on another trip, and after a spat with Nicholas Boyle over the murder of his sister, Cassie Boyle, the doctor saw Abigail with blood on her hands. 

Hannibal slammed Alana’s head into a brick wall and laid her down, going to the girl immediately. She'd gutted the young man and after an agreement, decided to help her. They both had secrets to keep. Once the body was buried, she was taken back to the hotel, no one the wiser. 

A few days later Hannibal sat his office, sitting opposite of Will, his hands clasped. “Will, have you seen Hobbs again since we've return from our trip?”

“Yes,” Will said, sitting there, hands clasped against the arms, timid. The trip had been… shaky, and Will was sure he was losing his mind now, seeing ghosts where maybe there shouldn’t be. It was growing difficult to discern reality from mediumship.

“Tell me how you're feeling,” Hannibal suggested, crossing one leg over the other as he took in Will’s body language and disposition. 

“Disconnected,” Will muttered.

“Disconnected from the living world and thrust into the other, perhaps more so than before? Or is it that they have both begun to blur?” Hannibal asked. 

“All of it,” Will said, having seen so many of what he thought were ghosts at Abigail’s home on the second venture that he wasn’t sure what was real or not anymore. They could all be spirits of the girls killed, or… they could be his imagination.

“What you need is an anchor to ground you in reality,” Hannibal said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. He got up and walked over, crouching down in front of him. “I can be that for you, Will.”

They’d talked about this before, of course, and Will was grateful then and was even more so now. “Right. My paddle.” He watched Hannibal as drop of sweat dripped down the back of his neck slowly.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, knowing this was a different scenario than previously. He flared his nostrils and inhaled Will’s scent as he took his hand in his own. “A drink perhaps?”

Nodding his head slowly, Will swallowed hard. “Yeah, a drink would be good.” 

Hannibal got up after kissing Will’s hand and went to pour them each a glass of wine. He brought it back and handed it over. “There we are.”

Not sure this was the best choice, Will took it anyway and swallowed a mouthful just to feel anything but the taste of metal in his mouth. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Hannibal said and kissed Will’s brow, to show his affection as well as feel his temperature. He let his lips linger before letting go. “Just the one, hm?”

“I have to drive home,” Will agreed, the wine cool against his tongue and down his throat.

“Or you could come with me to my place. I'll cook you dinner and you can ground yourself there,” Hannibal offered, thinking the change of scenery may help with the spirits that plagued his beloved. 

The dogs would be fine for the night, Will had to reason. “Okay… That might not be terrible.”

Hannibal chuckled and sipped more of his wine, sitting back down so they could finish their drink before leaving. “Excellent. I shall see to it that you don't regret your decision.”

“I haven’t yet,” Will whispered as he took a longer sip.

Smiling at that, Hannibal did the same, his eyes not leaving Will’s as he partook of the vintage. “Good,” he murmured. 

They drank their wine in relative silence, and when finished, Will handed his glass to Hannibal and grabbed his coat, but didn’t put it on. He was sweating under his flannel, far too warm.

Hannibal put the glasses away and got his coat, keys, and phone, opening the door for Will. “Come, Will.”

Giving Hannibal a look, Will followed silently, just behind Hannibal and then through the door and out to the parking lot. “I’ll follow you,” he said, motioning to his car.

“Of course, yes,” Hannibal nodded and then opened his car door after unlocking it. He got in, started it, and once he saw Will was ready, took off. 

Will followed, keeping up behind Hannibal, though sweat threatened to pour off his skin, drop by drop. He finally parked in front of Hannibal’s house and grabbed a bottle of water, guzzling it down before he got out of the car.

Hannibal locked his car and walked over to Will, offering his hand to his beloved. He could see the sweat, smell the fevered sweetness in the air, and could almost taste it. “I will see you to comfort, Will.”

“I’m okay,” Will insisted, swallowing. “I might be coming down with something though.” Jack had been running him ragged for a few weeks now, he half expected it.

“Well I can examine you then, I am a doctor,” Hannibal reminded with a charming smile and then unlocked the door, opening it. 

“I am quite aware,” Will said, slipping inside when the door was held for him once more, and then set it coat down by the door, undoing the buttons on his shirt, feeling he might be able to breathe a little better.

“May I then?” Hannibal asked, locking the door behind them as he took off his suit coat and hung both up. 

“Fine,” Will said, rolling up his sleeves as he looked leerily at Hannibal. “If you must.”

“I must,” Hannibal chuckled, and rolled his own sleeves up. He licked his lips and looked Will in the eyes. “Allow me to wash my hands and procure a few items.”

Will nodded his head and bent to undo his laces and stepped out of his boots, leaving them by the door. Making his way to the living room, he turned the light on there and took a seat. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, but the visions behind his lids did little to settle him as he drifted off to sleep.

Hannibal returned and stopped short when he saw Will sleeping. He decided to let him be for the moment, and set everything down to go get some medicine ready for later, as well as prepare dinner. 

Behind his lids, Will was plagued with the nightmares of ghosts, the girls, all of them, all at once, dead and bleeding, moaning and begging for some sort of settlement, some kind of release. Though his foggy haze, Will reached out, grasping at the girl floating there, only to full the cover off. The sheet slipped through his fingers, silky and soft...

His eyes snapped open. Will gasped, scrambling to his feet, chest heaving, shirt soaked. Looking around confused on where he was, Will rubbed both hands over his face, trying to ground himself back into the reality of his situation.

By the time Will woke, dinner was ready and waiting on the table, covered to keep warm. Hannibal walked over and stood near him. “What did you dream,” he asked, still needing to examine him. “And supper is ready, if you feel like eating, which I recommend you do.”

“Nothing,” Will swallowed hard, shaking a little. He couldn’t think about eating when he felt like throwing up. “Okay?”

“Very well, we won't discuss it then. Let me examine you at least,” Hannibal offered again, doing everything in his power. 

Will sat down once more, trembling still, shivering. “Okay…” He was still trying to process his dream, what he saw, if it was vision or nightmare--he wasn’t sure.

The first thing Hannibal did was wrap a blanket around Will, and then he handed him two aspirins and water. “Take this please, Will,” he insisted and brushed his hair from his brow. “If you feel like talking just know that you can.” 

“I’m trying to wrap my mind around my own… mind,” Will said, and dropped the pills into his mouth, swallowing them down with a gulp of water.

“It hard to fix your mind when that is precisely what the issue is,” Hannibal said with a knowing nod, as he pulled out the blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around Will’s arm to begin the examination. “It is also why you need me.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Certainly not, you are simply overwhelmed,” Hannibal answered honestly, and then noted the reading before putting his stethoscope on to listen to his lungs and heart. “Your blood pressure is 145/90, a bit high but not dangerously so. Lungs are clear and your heart is a bit fast but again nothing that causes concern.”

“It’s just a cold,” Will insisted, sure that had to be the reason it felt like his mind was on fire right now. 

“And yet your lungs are clear,” Hannibal said, and then before Will could retort, offered up a thermometer for him to put into his mouth. 

“Never heard of an head cold? Fever can set in long before, Doctor,” Will murmured and opened his mouth to let the thermometer rust on under his tongue.

“Yes, clearly I've heard of that, William,” Hannibal said, with a pompous sniff. He took the thermometer out when it beeped and looked at it. “This is likely due to stress and since you are not sniffling, nor have a runny nose, we can rule out a head cold.”

“A fever from stress?” Will sighed heavily as a drop of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

“The body produces fever when it is fighting off something or perceives it as such. It's a response to stimuli,” Hannibal said, stroking Will’s face, still cautious in their intimacy. “Stress lowers the immune system. I suggest more therapy and rest when you can, it should pass in due time.”

Will shifted his jaw but nodded. Whatever Hannibal gave him was working into his system slowly, and he started to feel better, less heated. “Okay…”

“Good,” Hannibal smiled and kissed Will’s lips once, stroking his cheek. “And perhaps I can convince you to eat a bit once you're feeling better.”

“Yes,” Will whispered, after all it was reason he was here, to enjoy Hannibal’s company and eat dinner.

“Thank you,” Hannibal winked and then took Will’s hand to lead him to the chair at the table. After pulling it out for his beloved, he removed the coverings from the plates to reveal chicken cordon bleu. 

Will sat and picked up the fork and knife, the churn of his stomach lessening, thankfully. “It smells wonderful.”

Hannibal poured himself wine and a sparkling ginger ale for Will to aid with any residual queasiness. He took up his own utensils and smiled. “Thank you, it's a simple dish that originated in Switzerland in the 1940s.” 

Taking a sip of the drink first, Will then cut into the food, well aware Hannibal would wait. He placed the morsal on his tongue and chewed. “It’s good, thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Hannibal said with a cant of his head before taking a bite of his own. He hummed around the fork, pleased with his simple creation and watched Will intently. 

The fever was dying down, and Will felt better the more he ate, aware that he’d been working so much that he forgot often to fuel himself. “Perhaps I am run down,” he admitted.

“Yes, you have not only the ghosts of the living in your mind, but also the dead,” Hannibal nodded and took another bite, gingerly wiping his mouth before taking a sip of wine. “It is to be expected that you would feel as such.”

“I’ll have to take a day to fish,” Will mentioned as he cut into another bite. “Whenever I get the time.”

“I can speak with Jack to give you some time off, recommend it on my orders,” Hannibal offered, taking another bite. “It is important that you find peace of mind, Will.”

“So long as things stay quiet for now, it should be fine,” Will murmured as he cut into the chicken dish.

“Yes, of course,” Hannibal said quietly and took a sip of wine. His mind was running and teeming with ideas unspoken. 

As Will brought the bite to his mouth, many forms appeared around the table with them, next to him, across, everywhere, sitting in chairs and staring him down. Swallowing, Will stared back, fork suspended in the air as he froze in place. Which were real? Which were hallucinations once more? There was no way they were all there, connected to the murders, the cabin in the woods. One of the victims had blood pouring from her mouth, black as blood in the thick of night, another had antlers prodding out through her stomach and chest, mantled onto the stag head like out in the field. Will dropped his fork and took a sip of his drink instead, catching his breath.

“What do you see, Will?” Hannibal asked, enthralled and intrigued as he watch him. He set his fork down as well and leaned forward, curious.

“All the girls that were killed, even the one that wasn’t the Shrike’s victims, but the Copy Cat’s, too,” Will whispered, eyes mostly unfocused as he stared, unaware of Hannibal aside from his voice grounding him to the present. 

“You step inside the killer’s mind and walk in their shoes, this also allows them to stroll through your own mind,” Hannibal said, finishing his food and then taking one last step. “Take a breath Will, tell me what time it is and where you are.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Will asked, anxious as he realized he’d not just brought back a bit of Hobbs, but a bit of everyone else, and not just ghosts.

“It serves to keep you grounded in this moment, in reality,” Hannibal explained, licking his lips to steel himself. 

“I’m…” Will squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath, “I’m in Baltimore Maryland, it’s…” Eyes opening once more, he looked at his watch. “It is eight thirty in the evening.”

“Good, yes,” Hannibal said and gathered the plates, preparing to take them into the kitchen. “Anytime that you are feeling in such a way, repeat that information.”

“What if I’m not here,” Will asked,brow raised coyly. The visions starting to fade slowly, the girls disappearing into a milky mist and then gone all together.

“Then you will use the place you are at in that instance, William,” Hannibal replied with a grin and an arched, knowing brow. He rose from the table and went to rinse off the plates for the dishwasher. 

Pushing away from the table, Will followed the doctor, the world no longer a haze, his vision no longer spinning. “Can I help?”

“If you wish, yes please,” Hannibal nodded, starting to rinse each plate and offer one up to Will to stack in the dishwasher. 

They worked in quiet silence, comfortable that way even after only a handful or so of weeks of knowing each other. Finally, the dishes were done and Will dried his hands and gave Hannibal the towel to do the same.

Hannibal did and then hung the towel up, to let it dry. “Why don't we go on the lanai, I believe you could use some fresh air, don't you agree?”

Nodding, Will reached his hand for Hannibal’s for the first time that evening. Though he was more stable now than he had been half an hour ago, he felt fragile, like any moment he mind drown in his mind or his own sweat. “Yes.”

Lacing their fingers together, Hannibal smiled and lead Will outside, where the stars twinkled brightly, like diamonds. The air was crisp, a slight breeze as leaves rustled in the trees. “Ah, a glorious night, and made more so by your presence.”

“Despite my lunacy?” Will smiled over at Hannibal, more in his right mind now than he had been all day.

Hannibal leaned over and kissed Will once and cupped his cheek, all but peering into his soul. “Yes, despite that,” he joked. 

“You’re not supposed to agree,” Will whispered but smiled as his gaze roved over Hannibal’s face, to his lips, and then touched his waist with his own hands.

“You'll be sure to remind of the proper doctor-patient policies later then,” Hannibal whispered back and stepped in closer, his full lips quirking into a charming, debonair smile. 

Nodding slowly, Will placed them toe-to-toe, his gaze never straying from Hannibal’s, not anymore. “Later,” he agreed.

Hannibal placed his hands on either side of Will’s neck, and leaned in to kiss him soundly, grounding him in his essence. The motion pulled a throaty hum from the brunet as Will squeezed his hands around Hannibal's trim hips, parting his lips to kiss the doctor deeper. Crickets chirped and blended with the sounds of their kisses and groans, Hannibal taking in every last note of the symphony. He felt Will’s pulse, delighting in the gentle thud beneath his fingertips. 

“Hannibal,” Will whispered between heavy breaths shared between them, hands trailing to his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart syncing up to his own.

“Will,” Hannibal murmured deeply, kiss walking Will back against the banister, which he used to press him against as his tongue probed deeper, hands ever seeking. 

Will sought out more skin, untucking Hannibal’s shirt to feel the grove of hip that laid beneath, softer than he thought possible for a man, but knew it came with great care Will didn’t have the want for himself. He sucked on Hannibal’s tongue, tasting remnants of wine.

Hannibal unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his furry chest so Will could touch as he pleased before he then did the same to his beloved. He ran his hand up the medium’s smooth torso, his breath hitching as he bit at his lips. “You are art, Will. Truly exquisite and unique in a way I've never had the pleasure of knowing. Not until now.”

Will bit Hannibal’s lips for that, biting the words from his mouth as if to take them--eat, swallow them--lest he never hear anything so nice again. He dragged his nails down Hannibal’s chest, catching over his nipples, thumbing back over him until they were hard pebbles under his touch. It made the doctor growl in pleasure, as he pressed against him more firmly, rolling his hips and scraping sharp teeth down his neck. 

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” Will gasped, wanting to feel out more of Hannibal, but outside wasn’t where he wanted it.

Hannibal felt the same and nodded with a thick swallow, moving off of Will to lead him back inside. “I’d love nothing more,” he rasped and shut the door behind them, heading to his room up the stairs. Inside, he removed his shirt, slipping his shoes off, and leaving them neatly aside as he eye fucked the beauty before him. “I wish to give you anything you desire, if you only ask.”

Will toed his boots off by the door and shucked his shirt off, leaving it with Hannibal’s. His belt was next,walking backwards toward the bed, eyes on the doctor. “I want you, that’s what I desire.”

Hannibal’s heart beat faster at that as he took off his belt and licked his lips. “And I you,” he murmured, his broad chest heaving as he walked toward Will, slipping his fingers into his waistband to pull him closer. “You are all that I desire.”

Knowing Hannibal would be easy with him for the first time, Will let the Doctor handle him with any care he wished. “Show me.”

Hannibal smiled and undid his trousers, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them. As he stooped down to pick them up, he scented Will, righting his stance and setting them aside before he moved to his beloved’s pants and unfastened them. “I intend on it,” he husked and slipped his hand inside to wrap around Will’s cock, stroking. “And slowly.”

Every bit of Will turned to mush with that, his body working perfectly into Hannibal’s capable hands. His jaw dropped, and his head lolled back to expose his neck. “Good.”

With his free hand, Hannibal pushed Will’s pants down, boxers and all before he did the same to his own. The doctor leaned in and pleasurably assaulted his neck with bites and kisses, veiny hand still slowly stroking. Will stepped out of everything and then leaned back on the bed, pulling Hannibal’s warm weight over him.

Hannibal settled between Will’s thick, muscular thighs, and kissed him into the mattress, grinding their cocks together to stoke the fires even higher. Will planted his legs, heels dug into the mattress and kissed Hannibal harder, tugging on his silky strands of hair.

The doctor growled then and took Will’s hands, pining them harshly above his head as he bit down on his neck, breaking skin as he rutted like the beast that he was. Will groaned, fingers tight against his palms, wrapping his legs around Hannibal so their cocks slid together effortlessly. Hannibal like this was dangerous, Will could see it, the beast within, tamed for now but daring to show his fangs. Maybe he’d show his own.

Maybe.

It's what Hannibal wanted. He'd been maddeningly polite but the Devil wanted to play, to let their demons dance and howl. He looked up at Will, crimson staining razor sharp fangs as he snarled and licked into his mouth to give him a taste. Copper rushed his senses as Will fed off the taste from Hannibal’s mouth, fingers stretching out now to take Hannibal’s own, lacing them together. Every muscle and bone loose, every heartbeat skipped until their bodies twined together, nearly one.

“Will-” Hannibal whispered like a prayer, to the gods of old that he didn't believe in, but appreciated all the same. He licked a bloody trail down the empath’s chest, hands released for now as he laved over pink nipples and nose over to his underarms just briefly. He wanted to savor and know every single bit of Will. 

Having never been so thoroughly… _devoured_ , Will watched as Hannibal took in every last bit of him he could with every sense he had. Thrilling, his heart raced, his blood thrummed. Nothing was as perfect as this moment, nothing ever made him feel more connected.

“Tell me what you feel as I learn you in this way,” Hannibal murmured and kissed Will’s ribs, to his navel, where he dipped his tongue inside before traveling to his pubic mound. “Does it feel as though every nerve ending under your skin is ablaze?”

“Yes,” Will whispered, a rasp, unable to find his voice without quiver need that built below the surface, boiling in his belly. “Like I’ve never been touched before.”

“Not like this you haven't,” Hannibal grinned, and let his fingers circle Will’s large balls, cupping them as he nosed into the thicket of hair around his shaft, nipping at it before he ran his tongue up his shaft. 

“Never like this,” Will agreed, head lolled back against the bed as he gripped the back of Hannibal’s neck, then up to his head, holding him there. “Oh-”

That perfect sound, Hannibal wanted more of that, so he took the tip of Will’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it firmly. He reached for the lube on the nightstand and slicked up his finger, letting it massage the tight pucker between his cheeks, testing, and pleasuring. Will’s hips moved in reaction, pressing down little by little, wanting anything Hannibal could give, to conjoin them, to move them forward in their relationship. Will felt if he was to be understand, he’d need to be known wholly. 

With silent permission, Hannibal took Will all the way to the back of his throat as he let his finger slid in slowly, distracting him from the inevitable burn. He watched him, keen amber eyes burning into the man he loved. 

“Hannibal-” the medium managed, hands in the bed sheets, fingers tangled in the soft linen, as he worked to relax, getting Hannibal knuckle deep as a fresh heat bloomed through him.

A groan vibrated from Hannibal’s lips, into Will’s cock as he massaged his prostate and pushed in further. He was so tight and hot, it took the doctor all his control not to unleash the beast then. Chest heaving with each pass over the sensitive spots, Will rolled his hips into each and everyone one, imagining what it might be like to be filled and writhing under the broad, mysterious doctor. 

When he felt Will ready, Hannibal added a second finger, took his time and after a few more minutes, inserted a third. He popped off his cock to lap over his balls, taking each one into his mouth. “You are soft, and warm, I cannot wait to feel just how much so you are when I am inside. I wish to drown in you, Will.”

Will was already drowning, figuratively, in every bit of Hannibal as their musky scents mixed together in the stillness of the air, the only sounds were those of his own breathe and Hannibal’s ministrations. “You will…” he promised.

Hannibal pressed his fingers against the pleasure nub inside of Will, carefully twisting his wrist and spreading his fingers to make sure the man he loved was opened up like a beautiful, budding flower. Once he was, he removed them, and slathered up his cock, kissing up Will’s body to his lips. “Are you ready?”

Would he ever be? Will wasn’t sure, but he wanted to feel their connection physically, to entwine them in every aspect. He’d never wanted anything more. “Yes,” he rasped, giving himself over to Hannibal, letting him lead Will into their new found intimacy.

Sliding his hands down Will’s sides, Hannibal sat back on his knees to give more control to the breech. He positioned his unsheathed cock head at his entrance and slowly pushed in, watching Will’s face as he, himself, gritted his teeth at the wondrously tight squeeze. “Ah, William…”

His full name on the doctor’s tongue elicited a moan from Will he couldn’t control, hips canting up to take Hannibal’s length, slowly, relaxing every muscle he could imagine. His gaze met Hannibal’s, fierce blue to fiery amber as their connection, their embrace--their conjoining-- commenced. Hannibal felt their individuality blur for a moment, both of their destinies entwined and tethered as he pulled back out a few inches, then pressed back in. The clutch of Will’s body was overwhelming in the more pleasurable sense and he felt himself a worshipper in the temple of the God under him. 

“Hannibal-” Will managed with the second plunge, his words escape his mouth with a puff of air. His body was on fire, his pucker raw and abused, but everything felt painfully woken, dizzyingly pleasurable.

With each press in, a bit of lube squeezed out, running over Hannibal’s balls. He groaned deeply and kissed every sound from Will’s lips. Then symphonic cadence of it was breathtaking and he began to set a faster pace. “Will-”

The medium reached between them to palm his cock, fisting it in time with each thrust, jaw dropping as wordless moans escaped him, the fire stroked in his core ready to burst at any moment.

Hannibal bent Will in half, pressing his knees to his smooth chest as he pulled away his beloved’s hand to replace it with his own. “I shall be the only one providing your pleasure tonight, Will-”

Hands dropping back to the sheets, Will braced himself only able to writhe a little under Hannibal in his position as he came, hot and blinding, panting out Hannibal’s name in a chant that wouldn’t cease.

The good doctor watched every glorious moment, painting it in his mind as he snapped his hips relentlessly. He came just a few more strokes in, filling him to brim as let Will’s legs part and collapsed on top of him, licking into his mouth. “Will…”

Will wrapped his arms around the doctor and held him there, legs winding around his hips as they kissed and caught their breath. They were gloriously entwined, blurring at the seams.

Hannibal didn't even attempt to move, he didn't want to, and was content to stay wrapped up in his beloved like this in their little bubble for all time. His heart beat out love with each thud, and he stoked his face, nosing against the other. “You undo me, completely, Will.”

“As you do me, Doctor Lecter,” Will managed with a little smile, flushed and sweaty, this time not from fever.

“I believe we can be on a first name basis now,” Hannibal grinned back, though he didn't mind the other. He kissed Will again and then pulled his weight from his body, laying on his back with arms open in invitation. 

Will laid in Hannibal’s arms as they had for weeks now, comfortable in taking his comfort, aware that he needed it. Taking a deep breath, Will rested his head against Hannibal’s bicep, hand on his chest, fingers through his hair there. “Okay, _Hannibal_.”

Hannibal kissed Will’s brow for that, inhaling the mingled scent of their sweaty, sex spent bodies. It was poignant, and it washed over his senses like a fragrant perfume concocted just for the two of them. “Good, William. Thank you.”

“Now, William is formal,” Will stated with a small smile. “Will is fine.”

“I suppose it is, Will, my apologies,” Hannibal grinned and ran his fingers over Will’s skin. 

“It's okay, I know you'll make it up to me,” Will whispered, nipping at Hannibal's lips.

“Spoiled already,” Hannibal teased, though he would. He'd do anything for Will Graham. 

“Hardly,” Will sighed, smiling at Hannibal as they laid there, nude and comfortable around each other. “It takes a lot to do that to me.”

“Yes, I’d imagine so,” Hannibal smiled, knowing Will wasn't one for such things but he did so want to dote on him anyways. “But you cannot begrudge me the right to try, hm?”

“Not at the moment,” Will whispered, skin tinted with sweat that was drying quickly on hot skin.

Hannibal hummed at that and leaned in to kiss Will again, just wanting to savor every part of him. “I do hope you’ll consider staying the night?”

“I’m staying,” Will yawned. “I couldn’t be bothered to move right now if you paid me to.”

Chuckling, Hannibal held Will a bit tighter, rubbing his skin. “Good, because I have no intention of doing that. Would you like a night cap?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind drinking in bed,” Will murmured, barely wanting to move to let Hannibal up.

“For you I can make an exception,” Hannibal murmured back, and then kissed Will again before getting up to walk into the other room. He returned and handed Will two fingers of the whiskey he liked, a Brandy for himself, before getting back into bed. “There we are.”

Will sat up and sipped the drink, licking his lips. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” Hannibal replied and took a drink of his own, wrapping his arm around Will as he canted his head to watch the sweep of his tongue. 

For now the ghosts and hallucinations were gone, even the real ones, which made it much more difficult for Will to differentiate. His mind was clear and his feelings attuned to Hannibal. Comfortable.


	5. Chapter 5

Reaching, following, looking. Will wandered the street lines closely, shivering uncontrollably as a dark beast behind him follows slowly. A bright flash of light sparked in front of him and Will held his hand up instinctively to shield his eyes, blue and red flashing in time with the beating of his heart in his ears.

“Sir?”

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Will Graham.”

“That your dog?”

Will looked behind him as Winston nosed his palm, cold and wet.

“Yeah.”

***

Will knocked on Hannibal’s door, wrapped in a coat and his feet bandaged inside his boots from the impromptu barefoot walk in the street. His was still shivering deep down, arms crossed over his chest, wondering just what the hell was going on with him.

Hannibal opened it, just in his robe as he looked at Will with sleepy eyes. “Come in, Will,” he said, assessing him quickly, and moving aside so he could enter. 

“Sorry it’s early,” Will murmured as he stepped in, eyes bright like he’d been up a while.

“Never apologize for coming to me,” Hannibal assured, walking Will into the kitchen where he started the coffee. “My home is always open to you, Mylimasis. Tell me, what has you up at this hour or have you not seen your bed at all?”

“I woke in the middle of a backroad in Wolf Trap this morning. I was sleepwalking,” Will said, pacing in a panic that he’d worked himself into once more. “I waited until it was later to come.”

“You could have come to me earlier, Will,” Hannibal said and added just a bit of sugar to his glass mug, handing one over to Will first before blowing on his own. He pushed the sugar up, to let him decide how much he might want. “What do you remember before waking up?”

“Chasing something, I don’t recall much,” Will said, putting a lump of sugar in his coffee and stirred it.

“What woke you?” Hannibal asked, probing further, as he sipped more coffee, the gears in his mind turning. 

“Police,” Will murmured into his cup and shrugged. “Winston followed me out, luckily. They drove me home.”

“How are you feeling now?” Hannibal asked, sipping more coffee, warming and waking from it as he looked at Will. 

“Aware and awake,” Will whispered, taking a deep breath as he inhaled the aroma of his coffee.

“And are you having many nightmares?” Hannibal inquired, licking his lips before taking another drink. 

“Are they nightmares or overactive imagination dreams?” Will asked, head canted just so, jaw tense, and posture squared, but vulnerable. 

“Nightmares are termed as such if the dream elicits a fear response,” Hannibal answered, setting down his mug to offer a refill to Will. “Do these dreams scare you Will? Or do they perhaps exhilarate you, which prompts your body to act of its own accord when you are otherwise unaware?”

“There’s always a bit of fear, but I’m not… I’m used to it,” Will replied as he set his mug down for a top off. “I’ve dealt with nightmares and bad dreams my whole life, it comes with the territory.”

Hannibal filled Will’s mug and then his own, not adding more sugar to his, but it was there if his beloved needed it. “Given the length of your dreams, I would say that you have quite a bit of repressed feelings. I can help you work these out, if you ask me to.”

“What am I repressing exactly?” Will asked, brows furrowed as he sipped the coffee, shoulders slumped, tense.

“That is what the therapy will help find out,” Hannibal explained and then reached over to grasp his hand. He placed a kiss on his knuckles, rubbing his lips there. “You yourself have expressed a few things that have happened to you.”

“Have I?” Will asked, all at once less tense as their walls faded and their relationship eased him.

“Indeed you have,” Hannibal answered, walking around to kiss Will softly, twice. “I only wish to help you, Mylimasis.”

Will set his mug down and touched Hannibal’s arms, keeping him there, staying close. “I fear more of this is to come. I can’t get a hold of myself and I get lost, I wake up in strange places…” Will leaned and rested his forehead against Hannibal’s collarbone. “I don’t want you to think I’m unstable.”

“We all have ability to become lost in the dark when that is all we’ve experienced,” Hannibal said, and wrapped his arms around Will, rubbing his back. “It hardly means you're unstable, Will.”

“I… I feel it,” Will whispered, huffing as his fingers cinched around Hannibal’s waist, taking every last bit of comfort he could.

“Temporary displacement hardly means your permanently unstable,” Hannibal offered, keeping Will close, kissing him intermittently. “Often, chaos brings rebirth.”

“Rebirth of what? Hobbs? Anyone of those girls? That sort of chaos is… dangerous,” Will said, riled again, teeth on edge as he watched Hannibal up close.

“Renewed strength, a knowing,” Hannibal answered, alternating between soothing and destressing him. “Perhaps all of this will bring some clarity that will assist you in catching the monsters.”

“I mostly want to catch one monster. The Copycat. He’s still out there,” Will insisted.

“Do you feel as though when you do, you'll sleep peacefully again, or at least as you have before the sleepwalking?” Hannibal asked, kissing Will’s brow and then letting go to grab his coffee. 

Will took up his coffee and leaned against the counter. “I don’t know. A little bit, maybe. I… can’t help but _feel_ like there’s a reason other than showing me who the Shrike was with that murder. There’s got to be more.”

“You think this copycat is wanting to be seen for themselves? Are they branching out, so to speak?” Hannibal asked, finishing off his coffee.

“Maybe,” Will said with a nod, licking his lips. “Or it’s a killer we know, and he’s copying others.” 

“Why would he do that? What is his reasons? Beyond showing you a negative,” Hannibal asked, setting the cup down and leaning close to Will. 

“I don’t know yet,” Will said, honestly, taking the last sip of his coffee.

Hannibal nodded and then took the mugs to the sink to rinse. “Well coming to me was a wise decision and one I’m grateful for.”

“What other choice was there?” Will smiled with that, and sighed, feeling better now that he’d been around Hannibal, less scattered, less… crazy.

“While there were others, I am pleased you see it that way,” Hannibal smiled back, and walked over to Will once more. 

It was Hannibal or Alana, and Will felt far more comfortable with Hannibal. “You’re my paddle.”

“I am,” Hannibal whispered and pulled Will to him to kiss him lovingly, holding his jaw. “And as your paddle, I do hope you will let me guide you to breakfast.”

“I could eat.”

***

A half hour later and breakfast was placed on the table in front of Will. Hannibal smiled and announced the dish. “Oeufs en Cocotte with Tarragon.”

“What is that exactly?” Will asked, smiling and far more relaxed now than when he’d arrived.

“It is French in origin, and is simply baked eggs with nutmeg, creme fraiche, and tarragon,” Hannibal explained as he moved his bowl closer to himself and took up his fork. 

“Interesting,” Will murmured as he cut into the dish and took a bite. His stomach growled loudly as he swallowed it. “Hungrier than I thought.”

“I do enjoy taking care of all your needs,” Hannibal winked and then cut into his, taking a bite and humming. 

Will smiled bashfully at that and ducked his head as he ate another bite. “I am… capable.”

“You certainly are, Will, but I do enjoy the moments in which you allow me the privilege. The other night, for example, or simply preparing breakfast for you,” Hannibal smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he took another bite. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it,” Will admitted softly, taking another bite and washing it down with the fresh cup of coffee.

“I know that I did, immensely,” Hannibal rasped and his lisp thick on the last word. He took a sip of his coffee as well. 

“I’m aware,” Will smiled around the rim of his mug.

“I suppose I was very blatant about my enjoyment,” Hannibal grinned and then took another bite of breakfast. 

“I hope I was, too,” Will murmured as he finished his meal then in relative silence.

“Indeed you were,” Hannibal had answered. Once finished, he collected their plates and went to the sink to wash them. 

Will stood to help, his phone jingling in his pocket. “It’s Jack. I have to take this.”

***

“... Thought to be the Chesapeak Ripper, but no surgical trophies were taken,” Jack said, and looked over at Will’s worldworn form. “I need you to prepare yourself.”

“I am prepared, Jack.”

“Do it some more, it’s like soup in there, Will.”

“Soup isn’t good for the soul?” Will smiled warily at Jack who sighed.

“Not this soup. The police practically gift wrapped it to us, they didn’t want it,” Jack explained, but Will was staring off, unblinking at the door. Jack snapped his fingers. “Hey. You with me?”

“No.” Will heaved a breath. “Yes. Sorry. Didn’t sleep.”

“Don’t worry, this will wake you right up.”

Jack let Will enter first, who paused on seeing the scene. A couple, male and female, on their knees in a praying position, the flesh of their backs carved and rigged toward the ceiling to look like wings with fishing line and hooks; Will knew the supplies well. The forensics team was flitting around taking samples and dusting for prints meticulously. Will rubbed his forehead once and then his eyes. The couple was of course attached to the room now, and Will could see them plain as day standing around, looking at him. They did nothing to help, though, to push him in the right direction. He’d just have to do this the old fashioned way.

“Now I’m awake.”

***

“How do I profile someone who has a brain tumor constantly changing their judgement?The way they _think_?” Will asked and Hannibal tossed him the book on Neurology he had been looking for to show the profiler.

“A tumor can definitely affect brain functions, even causing vivid hallucinations. However, what appears to be driving your Angel Maker to create heaven on earth is a simple issue of mortality,” Hannibal explained, looking down at Will from above. 

Will scanned over pages of the book, not really sure what to look for. He huffed; “Can’t beat God, may as well become him.”

“You mentioned he was afraid,” Hannibal said, coming back down to the lower level. “Becoming God would go a long way to curing that fear, or at least telling himself that he had risen above it.”

“No, no… he _feels_ abandoned.” Will wasn’t sure how he came up with that one, but a feeling the crime scene had given off was strange, as though the ghosts of the people their killer mutilated murdered felt _bad_ for him despite being dead.

“Ever feel abandoned, Mylimasis?” Hannibal asked, crossing his leg over the other, leaning against his desk as he watched his beloved sort through his mind. 

“Abandonment requires expectation, Hannibal,” Will said, using the Doctor’s full name as his walls slipped a little, as only Hannibal seemed able to do. “And Jack hasn’t abandoned me. I know you’re suggesting it-- _thinking_ it.”

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed and got up to step closer to Will. He was pleased with his beloved’s ability to know him like that; Will was the only one who knew him. “And perhaps he hasn't in any discernible way.”

“How’s that?” Will asked, standing his ground while Hannibal approached. “Please, continue, _Doctor Lecter_.”

“Jack gave his word he would protect your headspace, what he thinks he understands of it, and yet he abandons you to your mental devices,” Hannibal answered, and placed his hand on Will’s shoulder at the name change. 

“Don’t alienate me from Jack,” Will sighed, looking at his… whatever Hannibal was to him. “Help me understand this killer, how to _catch_ him.”

“If he is a paranoid schizophrenic, you may be able to influence him to become visible or even hurt himself, providing he's not done so already,” Hannibal suggested, licking his lips as he removed his hand from Will’s shoulder. 

“Scare tactics,” Will murmured, shrugging his shoulders, missing the heat immediately. “If he were self destructive, don’t you think he wouldn’t be so careful?”

“Unless he's being careful about his self destruction. He's making angels to pray over him while he sleeps,” Hannibal said, watching every nuance that Will made. “Who prays over us when we sleep?”

For Will? No one, or he wouldn’t be sleeping walking. He stared at Hannibal a long moment. “So, where does that leave us?” Will’s mind was still on edge, still trying to run with very little sleep, and that hot feeling was roving over him again.

“If you can inspire him to come out, to give him security or perhaps push him by other means, then I do believe you're off to a good start,” Hannibal answered, touching Will’s cheek affectionate and assessing. 

Will raised a bow at Hannibal, skin hot to touch. “How can I do that before he does it again? Before he hurts himself?”

Hannibal withdrew his hand and observed Will. “How do you suppose he's choosing his angels?” he asked, canting his head as he stood before Will. 

Will rolled back his shoulders, shrugging. “I don’t know.” So far, there was the one set, and no real given answer as to why. After a beat, Will remembered the test results they got back. “The couple found had false names, they were wanted criminals, rapists. Maybe… he’s doing God’s work.”

“God has given him insight into the souls of man?” Hannibal asked, more rhetorically but also curiously. 

“His tumor would make him believe he was capable and doing God’s divine work. He might… even be preparing himself to become one,” Will suggested, a feeling deep in his core about this one. There was little proof, but., Will would find it.

“His brain is playing tricks on him. You're not unlike this killer, Will,” Hannibal said but definitely agreed with Will’s assessment. 

“My brain is not playing tricks on me. I see the dead, and with it sometimes more than that,” Will reasoned, sure that he wasn’t just seeing things to see them. His mind worked quick, made jumps, and then gave him the insights and images he needed.

“What I mean is you wish to feel a sweet and easy peace. The angel maker wants to feel that same peace. He wishes to make his way carefully inside it and become submerged in its beautiful depths,” Hannibal explained, leaning in and inhaling subtly.

“He’s dying, of course he wants to feel peace,” Will sighed, disgruntled as he was, he watched Hannibal carefully. 

“Do you believe you will obtain that peace? The angel maker is chasing that dream, clinging to it. It could be that is how he'll be caught, close to the peace he's only sampled,” Hannibal offered, ever observing his beautiful beloved. 

“That sort of peace only comes with death,” Will answered, plainly. “I don’t plan to find death, but he does. He definitely does. Be it his own hand or someone else’s.”

“Your death is not something I could stand,” Hannibal said, meeting Will’s eyes to show his sincerity. He hardly cared about the angel maker, but it was important to Will. 

“I’m not dying,” Will insisted, stepping into Hannibal’s reach, hands on his waist. “Don’t plan to, and I’m too stubborn to go down as it is.”

“Yes of course,” Hannibal nodded, and let his hands rest on Will’s muscular shoulders. He leaned in and kissed him softly, just once, and smiled before adding, “And you are quite stubborn.”

“Just keep me afloat, that’s all I’m asking,” Will whispered and rested their faces together, leaning into each other for support.

“I will, Mylimasis,” Hannibal murmured, and caressed Will’s sharp, scruffy jaw, content to stay there with him like that for as long as he'd be allowed to. 

“It’s all I need,” Will ensured and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He wasn’t sure what they were, exactly, but he didn’t mind, honestly, having this sort of grounding.

“Good,” Hannibal smiled and softly brushed his lips over Will’s, feeling his breath against his mouth. “I have every confidence you will catch this killer.” 

“Hopefully not before he makes his ascension,” Will agreed, closing their distance and kissing Hannibal slowly.

Hannibal responded by letting his tongue slip into Will’s mouth, worshipping him in his own way, and right at the source. He hummed deeply, slipping fingers through his hair. Will’s arms wrapped tighter around Hannibal, hooking under his arms around on his shoulders as he deepened their kiss slowly.

The doctor backed Will against the ladder, pressing his body against him as he kissed him more hungrily. He growled quietly, and tightened his hold in his hair. The empathic medium groaned, hands on the ladder as he tried to catch his breath, and not wanting to all at once.

“Hannibal-”

“Will-” Hannibal rumbled, kissing down Will’s neck as his clothed cock pressed against the other’s groin. He feasted on his flesh, taking in his poignant aroma that was peppered with heat, his hands roving down his sides. 

“Here?” Will asked, breathless, tugging on Hannibal’s tie to undo it as they kissed.

“Yes,” Hannibal rasped, and began to unbutton Will’s shirt. The door wasn't locked but no one was due so late, not that the doctor was worried about it as long as his beloved was comfortable. 

Will kicked his boots off to the ground and undid Hannibal vest and then his shirt quickly, biting kisses into his mouth and jaw. “Good. I’ve thought about this all day.”

“Likewise,” Hannibal murmured, slipping out of his shoes and shrugging off his shirt, suit jacket already hanging by the door. He slipped off Will’s shirt next, and undid his pants, his hand going inside to grasp his cock through his underwear as he kissed him back. 

Will gripped the sides of the ladder, holding tight as he shifted out of his pants, leaving them in a pool on the floor. He’d never been one to lust after people, but when he found mutual bond, a need, he took it, and often. “Good-”

Hannibal removed his trousers and finally they were nude before one another. He turned to pull some lubricant from the desk drawer, keeping it nearby. The doctor got on his knees and without a word, took Will’s cock all the way into his mouth. He'd imagined this before. 

“Oh my God-” Will gasped, letting go of the breath he’d been holding. Keen blue eyes watched Hannibal, on his knees, a sight he was sure no one ever saw.

Only for Will. Hannibal hollowed his cheeks, the sharp bones of them more prominent this way as he bobbed his head up and down along the shaft. His tongue swirled hungrily, deft doctor’s fingers rolling his fat balls as Will’s hips pressed against his mouth, desperate for more, for anything more. Sweat dripped from his brow while he heated thoroughly from the inside out.

Hannibal looked up at Will, watching every nuance, and listening to every sound, his own cock hard and leaking. He groaned, the sound resonating, as saliva dripped obscenely from the corners of his mouth. 

“Hannibal…” Will managed, slipping deft fingers through his hair, moving those perfects strands out of place.

The doctor continued for a few more minutes and then guided Will to turn around. “I wish to taste you in this manner. Bend over, and spread your legs, Mylimasis.”

Will bent, his hands on a rung, and then pushed his ass out, legs spread for Hannibal. It would otherwise be degrading, but Will was far into the moment to care. Hannibal had no intentions of degrading, he wanted to worship Will. Spreading him further, the doctor kissed each cheek and licked up the part, growling with delight as he started to feast on his sweetness. He tasted decadent, the best meal he'd ever consumed. 

A groan resounded through Will’s chest as he gripped the ladder tighter, socked toes curling against the carpet. “Oh-” Hannibal’s tongue left him wet and quivering. Muscles daring to give out under such sweet duress.

That sound from Will, only encouraged Hannibal, and he pressed his tongue inside the taut ring of muscle to work him open. As he did, one hand continued to knead his ass, as the other pressed between his balls and his hot hole. Will squirmed, biting back another guttural noise that dared escape his chest as his hips pressed back to take whatever else Hannibal was giving.

Hannibal continued, bringing Will to the edge, and then stopped, putting a slicked finger inside. He worked him open with one, and then two, pressing against his prostate as he licked down to his balls. 

“Doctor-- _Hannibal_ ,” Will managed, thighs and calves tense as he breathed out the name, as though trying to scold him for the tease and slow build.

“Will,” Hannibal rasped, pulling out his fingers and slicking up his cock. He stood, and pressed against his cunning boy’s body, positioning the tip at his worked open entrance. “Are you for me to _fuck_ you?”

“Yes,” was the younger man’s simple reply with a look back over his shoulder at Hannibal, dark curls dipped in front of his eyes.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will, embracing him from behind as he slipped inside slowly, huffing ragged breaths against the other’s neck. After pause, he started to grind, circular, and deep, biting at his neck. “Ah, Will…”

Arching back, Will pushed off and held himself with his hands on the ladder, head lolling on his neck and to the side. “Perfect-” He ached as Hannibal entered, but once in, Will felt blissful heat pool in his lower back.

“Mm, yes,” Hannibal grunted, and licked from Will’s shoulder to his ear. He went back down, and bit there, his hips snapping harder, faster, sweat beading on his skin. 

Whatever regard Will had to the case was gone, his mind deftly placated now on the man behind him, vivid imagination spurring on the roll and rock of his hips back and forth. Will managed a few grunts, moans, but nothing more coherent.

Hannibal growled, reaching down to stroke Will’s turgid flesh, pinching gently between forefinger and thumb, as he bent his knees to tap his prostate. “Exquisite…”

“Hannibal-” Will managed, huffing as his body tensed, testicals rising up in anticipation of the inevitable, and finally dropping down over that ledge, spilling his seed as he groaned louder.

The hot, pulsing clutch of Will’s body, left Hannibal with no other choice than to let go. He fucked him with short, quick bursts, erupting like a volcano inside of his beau. “Will-!” The brunet’s hand reached behind him to keep him closer, gripping hard enough to leave bruises on his hip.

Hannibal bit into Will’s nape, drawing blood then, as he panted, and kissed over to his mouth, slipping his tongue inside. Will reached on hand to hold the back of Hannibal’s head as they shared in a languid, breathless kiss, only the sounds of their lips and tongue filling the room.

If they never ceased their kisses, their touch, Hannibal would have nary a complaint. He relished each moment spent with Will, from making love, to banter. The doctor was completely besotted. “I feel as though I am drowning in you, Will, and I go willingly, further out to sea,” he said, and kissed him again. 

“Just who is the paddle here?” Will whispered back, cheekily.

“My love is the paddle that guides me to you,” Hannibal responded, slipping out and turning Will around to meet his eyes. 

“Love huh?” Will mused, a brow raised as he looked over Hannibal’s face for some sort of amusement. 

“Yes.” Hannibal said, no amusement present. He waited, to see Will’s response. 

“You… love me?” Will reiterated, wanting to be clear and precise that he had heard correctly.

“I am in love with you, William. Yes,” Hannibal stated, constantly aching for Will. His time. His presence. 

“Good,” Will said with a swallow, ass clenched together to keep Hannibal’s spend in for now, not to make a mess and ruin their moment. “Because… I am in love with you, too.”

Hannibal let out a subtle breath at that and then leaned in to kiss him slowly, pouring his affections into it as he held him tightly. Nothing, to Will, could go wrong. With Hannibal helping him--loving him-- there was no way he could fail. He wrapped his arms around him tighter, pressing their bodies close together once more.

“Will...” Hannibal murmured, saying his name like a prayer, his lips brushing over the tanned skin of his neck. He paid attention to his pulse, not leaving any detail unnoticed. 

“Do we make this an official thing, or leave it for now?” Will asked, not sure how to proceed, he’d never dated his therapist before.

“I see no reason for waiting,” Hannibal answered, fully confident in his feelings and in Will. He thumbed over his lips and stared at them before flitting amber hues back to blue. “But if you'd rather wait, I am certainly fine with that.”

“I only meant that I don’t know that Jack will approve it, or me to keep coming to you for therapy if he found out,” Will commented, quietly, bracing his hands on Hannibal’s arms.

“Jack doesn't have to know and we can still be official,” Hannibal suggested, not caring if Jack knew but he wouldn't want someone else giving Will therapy. The doctor rested their brows together, and kissed Will once more. “What is your preference?”

“I like what we have on both ends. The less Jack knows the better for us,” Will whispered, eyes hooded as he gazed at Hannibal. He needed this.

“Then we’re agreed. I quite enjoy what we have, and from all ends,” Hannibal whispered back, nipping at Will’s lips greedily. 

“As long as you continue to be my paddle, this should work,” Will said, afraid to lose himself to the stream, to wade into it and never come back. Some days before this, it felt like the only way to have a good hold on the spirits that surrounded him. With Hannibal around, the spirits felt as though they had less to say.

“Always,” Hannibal promised, and embraced Will tightly, his chest a firm and reaffirming foundation. He wouldn't ever let him go. Their destinies were signed, sealed, and fated, in his mind. “I have every confidence it will. We are just alike.” 

“Are we?” Will asked, curious. He didn't see much of it, but he knew they were compatible.

“Perhaps we do have varying tastes and quirks, but at the very heart of it, we are,” Hannibal answered, canting his head a minute fraction. “Identically different, if you prefer.”

“Very poetic of you,” Will smiled wryly and kissed Hannibal once more. “I need to clean up before this dribbles out my ass.”

Hannibal chuckled and then shook his head once, backing up so Will could do just that. He would have offered to clean him, himself but figured that might be interpreted in a manner he didn't want. “Of course, certainly, Mylimasis.”

***

Another body was found, hung high between buildings, more wings carved from the skin on his back, looking down this time on the world below. The team found a pair of testicles, but not from the angel, and Will had a feeling it was from the angel maker himself. He really was preparing to ascend, to be an angel himself.

“His tumor is making him believe he can see into someone’s soul, tell if they’ve been naughty or nice,” Will said, shaking his head. “He’s not wrong, he’s been vigilant. Maybe he can see into them. Turning… demons into Angels.” 

Will swallowed down three aspirin, his headache was growing stronger as his teeth edged together.

“You can see into the minds of others, in your own,” Hannibal said, looking at Will, taking in his fevered sweetness. “You help capture the demons, only instead of converting them, or keeping them locked up, you still hear their howling whispers, and see them in your dreams. Are you still being haunted, Mylimasis?” 

“Yes,” Will sighed, drinking the pills down. He paced Hannibal’s office. “Two very different sorts of people. My… condition is real, his is tumor induced.” Will rubbed a hand over his face as his eyes then latched on to a stag statue by the wall. Why had he not ever seen that before?

“Yes, of course, Will,” Hannibal said, and then followed Will’s eyes to the stag. He walked over, moving behind him as he placed his hands on his hips and leaned in to smell him up close. 

Will’s brows furrowed as he felt Hannibal move in, thinking perhaps he might be getting close intimately, but realized he was being scented. “Did you just _smell_ me?”

“Difficult to avoid,” Hannibal said with a smile in his tone and then kissed Will’s cheek, “I shall have to introduce you to a different aftershave, Mylimasis.”

“I didn’t even shave,” Will murmured as he turned around to face Hannibal.

“Your body soap then. But whatever the case, can I not smell my lover when I wish to?” Hannibal crooned, cupping Will’s jaw. 

“I… well yes, but I don’t want it to be because I smell bad,” Will said with some concerned disdain, jaw shifting under Hannibal’s touch.

“You do not smell bad, Will,” Hannibal said, and leaned in to kiss Will twice, hoping to ease his tension for now. “I merely have a keen sense of smell.”

“You’re sure?” Will eyed Hannibal up close, taking each kiss given.

“Absolutely,” Hannibal smiled, thumbing over Will’s lips. “You do not smell bad, I assure you.”

“Good,” Will said, kissing Hannibal once. “I slept walked again.”

“Your dreams were the one place you could be physically safe relinquishing control. Not anymore,” Hannibal said, hands on Will’s shoulders. “Where were you when you woke up?”

“On my roof,” Will sighed.

“Certainly not safe, Will,” Hannibal responded, and pursed his lips. “You are more than welcome to stay at my home with you dogs, until this passes.”

“The dogs in your house?” Will asked, head canted toward his beau thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Hannibal answered, wanting Will there, even if it meant dog hair and the smell of them. It could be cleaned and tended to, but the rewards would override the aforementioned. “I can better be a paddle to you, with you closeby.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s wise until I get a better hold on this,” Will agreed, hoping that soon he’d be less… crazy.

“Excellent,” Hannibal said, stepping back to get his keys and phone. “I would help you bring your things if you'd like or you can meet me at my home.”

“Uhm, I can meet you,” Will said, grabbing his coat. “I have to get the dogs and their food…”

“I'll have supper ready by the time you and your pack arrive,” Hannibal stated, putting away his notebook, and getting his coat. 

“Perfect.” Will smiled and leaned into kiss Hannibal on the mouth and then left. 

Hannibal licked his lips and then did the same, getting into his Bentley, to head home. Once there, he made up the nicest guest room for Will, plenty of space for him if he needed privacy, though he hoped he'd more utilize it for storage. After that, he set about cooking supper. Will arrived no later than two hours later, the drive back and then drive to Hannibal’s took longer than he wanted. The dogs piled out and Will rang the doorbell, arms full of dogs things, beds and food, and one overnight bag for himself.

Drying his hands, Hannibal walked swiftly to the door and opened it, smiling, and immediately taking some of the items from Will’s hands as the dogs ran inside to explore. “Welcome, Will. Let me show you where you can put your things,” he said, stepping aside, and closing the door once his beloved was inside. 

“Thanks,” Will murmured, trying to get the dogs to calm, luckily they had baths the night before.

Lucky for Hannibal’s olfactory senses as well. He was appreciative as he walked Will upstairs once the dogs had settled, to a grand guest room suite, complete with its own bathroom. “Here we are. Of course you're more than welcome to sleep with me. In fact I encourage it,” he winked, hands in his pockets, “but I thought you might appreciate a room just for yourself, should you need it.”

“I sleep by myself as it is,” Will said, setting his things down on the bed. “I’ll keep my clothes in here, but might sleep with you.”

“I shall bend my knee in the hopes that you decide to accompany me tonight,” Hannibal said, the corners of his full lips turned up in a charming smile. 

“I think we both know I will,” Will said with a look as he set his things into a drawer of the dresser, perfectly folded and arranged.

Beautiful, Hannibal thought as he watched, loving how organized his Will was. “Mm, yes, one should always bend a knee in supplication to that which they serve or honor,” he flirted. 

Will gave Hannibal a look over his shoulder. “That so?”

“I believe it to be true, yes, at least on my behalf,” Hannibal answered, grinning. 

Will finished and turned around, watching Hannibal up close. “What’s for dinner?”

“Tournedos Rossini, a French steak dish, perhaps created for the composer Gioachino Rossini. It's comprised of beef tournedos, pan-fried in butter, served on a crouton, and topped with a hot slice of fresh whole foie gras. I prefer to garnish it with slices of black truffle and finish it all with a bit of Madeira demi-glace sauce," Hannibal explained, always pleased to talk of his culinary art. “It's ready and staying warm as we speak.”

“Sounds fancy,” Will said, his stomach rumble. “I’m starved.”

Hannibal chuckled, but preened under the compliment with a proud tip of his chin. “Then follow me, Mylimasis.”

Will did, taking Hannibal’s arm, leaning in close. “Smells good too.”

Hannibal enjoyed Will’s proximity, placing his hand atop Will’s as he escorted him to the dining room, stopping to kiss him once and pull out his chair. “Thank you, I hope you'll find the taste appealing as well.” 

“Everything you make is wonderful,” Will said, sitting down and allowing himself to be scooted into toward the table.

“I'm pleased you think so.” Hannibal smiled and once Will was situated, went to get their plates. He came back, setting it before him, and then sat down, red wine already breathing there to be poured. “Would you like some wine?”

“Sure,” Will said with a nod, though he wouldn’t have too much if it went right to his head.

Hannibal poured them each a glass and brought it up to his lips, sniffing, and taking a slow sip, letting it cost his tongue. “An especially rare vintage - Penfolds Grange 1951.”

Will followed what Hannibal did and gave him a raised brow as he tasted it. “It’s really good.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal smiled, licking his lips as he set the glass down and took up his fork, waiting as always for Will to take the first bite. 

Will cut into his food and then took his first bite, humming around his fork. “It’s delicious as always.”

Hannibal nodded his thanks, and then did the same, pleased with his creation. “I'm glad you find it to your liking, Will.”

“I haven’t not liked anything of yours yet,” Will said with another bite, feeling much more himself now that he was eating.

“Even better news then,” Hannibal rasped, his lisp coming through. He took another mouthful, and followed it with wine, wiping gingerly with his napkin. 

They ate in mostly silence after that and Will then helped with all the dishes, and then let the dogs out into Hannibal’s yard to let them do some business before they curled up in the study by the fire where Will put their beds.

“Are you ready for bed or would you like a nightcap?” Hannibal asked, walking up behind Will, and wrapping his arms around his waist, nuzzling him. 

“Whiskey,” Will said, turning in Hannibal’s arms to wrap his own around his shoulders. “And then bed.”

“Anything you require,” Hannibal crooned, and leaned in to kiss Will softly, tracing his jaw. He'd have Brandy, but he still had the whiskey he knew Will liked. 

“Perfect.” Will let go so they could get their drinks and head upstairs to get ready for bed.

Hannibal went over and poured their drinks, handed Will his, sipping his own before walking with him upstairs. “Have you decided on which room you shall be occupying for the night?”

“I’ll be with you,” Will murmured. “Warning that I tend to run hot in my sleep.” He followed behind Hannibal and once they were in the bedroom, he set his drink down and slipped down to his underwear and a t-shirt.

“I can bring in a fan if you require it,” Hannibal offered, and then also changed. He stripped to his silk boxers, and pulled on some maroon sleep pants, taking his drink in hand once more. “There we are.”

Will got in to bed and then sipped on his drink, waiting for Hannibal and once the other man was in, he scooted closer. “Better.”

“Yes, quite,” Hannibal murmured, resting against the headboard. He slipped his arm around Will, sipping his drink with his other hand. He could certainly get used to Will Graham in his bed. It was perfect. 

Will drank his booze and then set the glass down on the side table, curling up into Hannibal. He could get used to this. His mind started to settle a little from the booze haze, nodding off against Hannibal. Hannibal didn't wake him, and merely enjoyed Will’s warmth, finishing his Brandy and setting it aside. He turned his head and kissed his temple, debating whether to wake him yet or not so he could get comfortable in bed. Will was easily moved though, and did soon Hannibal’s own movement, and soon they were snuggled together, sound asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Will was woken by a call from Jack. They’d found a match for their killer, their Angel Maker, and he needed Will to go with him to confront his wife, since Elliot Budish seemed to have gone missing four months prior. After they got some information from her, they headed to a family farm Budish supposedly grew up in. Will thought for sure this would be the place he’d find their killer, considering the man had ‘died’ there back when he was a boy. Why not tie of the circle.

In the rafters of an old barn they found themselves standing just slightly in front and under the very last angel Budish would make: his own. Will sighed and turned his eyes from the sight looking at Jack as he studied the image before them. 

“It’s getting harder and harder for me to look,” Will confessed to Jack after a short spat around his mental capacity, and of course Jack wasn’t going to take it. Will was starting to feel trapped. Behind him he could feel the ghost of the man walking up on him, breathing down his neck if the man had breath at all.

Will shivered.

“No one is asking you to look alone, Will. You have Doctor Lecter, myself...Alana Bloom if you need her.”

“But-”

“Will, we both know what happens if you _don’t_ look.” Jack walked out, not another word, and Will turned, staring Elliot Budish in the eye, his carved out wings spread wide

“I see what you are,” Budish said, drawing closer and Will took a step back, tentative, not quickly.

“What is that?”

“Inside of you, I can bring it out. I will give you the majesty of your becoming.”

“No,” Will shook his head, hand on his gun at his hip. “Not all the way out.”

Before him Budish turned slowly into a grotesque Hobbs, and Will thought for sure he was losing it this time as he ran out, Hobbs and Budish alike calling after him. “See?”

***

Over the next few weeks Will had to deal with a few other cases, nothing that shook him like the Angel Maker, or hit quite as close to home. He stayed with Hannibal, and slept like the dead for most of the night, which was so unusual for him. He wouldn’t complain, he got to wake up next to Hannibal every morning and actually _eat_ something before work. Amongst all that, it was clear, because of Gideon, that the Ripper he was said to be he was not. This gave Will some hope in the Copycat killer case and the Ripper being connected. All because the case of Miriam Lass was brought to the surface once again, and it couldn’t be Gideon if he was locked up once more.

But then Jack wanted to use Gideon to get to the Ripper and Will started to think that wasn’t the wisest choice. Something in him knew the Ripper was dangerous and playing with him was like shoving your hand into a coal burning oven. In the end, Jack had Freddie Lounds write up an article about Gideon, which seemed to only antagonize the RIpper into torturing Jack with Miriam Lass even more, despite her being dead. Strange thing was, for someone dead, Will didn’t get the distinct feeling she was at all.

“Jack is playing with fire,” Will said after dinner one night when Chilton and Alana had already gone home.

“Then he should be prepared for the inevitable burn,” Hannibal answered, sipping his wine from dinner. “He has no qualms about lighting gas all around you, should he not be made to feel the heat of the fires he stokes?”

“He should, but he still does it,” Will sighed, agitated and stressed, he was pacing instead of sipping his left over wine, the dogs now at his feet, in from the backyard while guests were there.

“You can tell him to stop, Will, put an end to all this if you wish to,” Hannibal said, and got up to place his hands on Will’s shoulder, drink left behind. 

“I’ve tried. He thinks all I need is you by my side,” Will said, rubbing at his eyes. He hadn’t been forthright about the Angel Maker with Hannibal.

“And when did you try?” Hannibal asked, picking up that there was, perhaps, more that wasn't being shared. 

“With the Budish. I told him I couldn’t keep looking and he told me too bad,” Will sighed.

“What did you see with Budish, something that was too much?” Hannibal asked, probing for more, wondering what triggered it all. 

“It’s _all_ starting to be too much. They’re attaching to me like shadows on my back,” Will said, evenly.

“I can speak with Jack on your behalf, Will,” Hannibal offered, watching Will with keen eyes. Jack certainly needed to pay for his sins. 

“As soon as we figure out this CopyCat thing I can ask for less cases,” Will suggested, his conscience getting the best of him just as Jack knew it would.

Hannibal knew it too and he nodded, observing how everything was playing out. “He counts on your good nature,” he said, hands in his pockets. 

“He counts on my empathy to help him,” Will said, shortly, shaking his head.

“You do the work he is unable to. Perhaps you should be holding his title,” Hannibal said with a look that wasn't aimed at Will but the idea of Jack. 

“I would be if I could pass the FBI tests they insist I be able to,” Will chuckled darkly, almost sneering at the idea.

“Yes, it would seem as though they only need you when it suits them best,” Hannibal said, standing close to Will.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Will stopped pacing and looked at Hannibal. “We’re so close to drawing out the Ripper though. I can feel it.”

 

“Can you? What makes you confident now?” Hannibal asked, not condescendingly but wanting to know more about what Will knew. 

“It’s a gut feeling,” Will said, giving Hannibal a look. “I can’t… explain it.” Everything was starting to add up, the Ripper wanted to be seen, to be noticed, but he didn’t want to be caught.

“Some things are better left kept inside until an appropriate moment presents itself,” Hannibal nodded with understanding, his mind running rapidly with different trains of thought.

“It will all come to head soon enough,” Will agreed, pausing as he looked at Hannibal, his gaze bright on him as his mind started to settle. “Sorry. No work talk after dinner.”

“Quite right,” Hannibal smiled and licked his lips thoughtfully. He let his eyes remain on Will, never faltering. 

Will nodded and walked closer to Hannibal, happy to have his mind taken from the subject. “How was your day?”

“Spent the day consoling a neurotic named Franklyn,” Hannibal smiled, not sharing much more due to confidentiality. He wrapped his arms around Will’s shoulders. 

“How exciting,” Will murmured dryly, hands on Hannibal’s waist as he licked his own lips once.

There were perks when dealing with the banal, and Hannibal had a hunch about Franklyn, time would tell. For now, he chuckled and then leaned in to flit his own tongue between the part of Will’s irresistible mouth. “Not very, at least not so far. I am more interested on my after work activities here, with you.”

“Me too,” Will whispered, arms around Hannibal now so they were chest to chest, mouths slotted together perfectly.

Hannibal let his deft, surgeon’s hands slide down Will’s body, grasping the soft swell of his ass before he pulled him closer into his body, his own back against the solidity of the wall. He suckled his tongue and groaned at his taste. Will groaned into Hannibal’s mouth, leaning against him as their hips met and sparks flew through his veins. No one had ever brought this sort of lusting out of him the way Hannibal managed.

Likewise, Hannibal had never felt so alight from the proximity and touch of another. Only Will. He undid Will’s shirt, nimble fingers questing tanned skin, seeking out the firm pebbles of the other’s nipples as he worried his lips through sharp teeth. Gasping, Will moved back just enough to undo Hannibal’s tie and vest, then his shirt, pushing them all off his broad shoulders in an attempt not to disturb his workings.

The doctor shrugged off his unneeded attire, lowering his head to take Will’s nipple into his hot and waiting mouth. He swirled his tongue around the nub, hands undoing his beloved’s pants with needy haste. Will stepped out of the pants and did the same for Hannibal, one hand on the back of his head as he hissed at the pleasurable sensation.

Shimmying out of his pants, Hannibal took both of their cocks in hand as he righted his stance, capturing Will’s entirely decadent mouth once more. He was utterly insatiable for him, there would never be a time when he would feel he'd had enough. 

“Dessert?” Will asked breathlessly, his mind completely focused on Hannibal, the ghosts that haunted him at bay now as they lingered in the back of his mind, forcing them there.

“You are exactly that,” Hannibal husked, and began kissing walking Will back towards the stairs, his hands exploring and groping, kneading and stroking. 

“Going to feast on me, Doctor Lecter?” Will gasped, desperate to get them in bed, to crawl over Hannibal and take what he wanted.

“I intend on doing so, yes,” Hannibal rumbled, making it up the stairs and to the bedroom. Once inside, he was on Will again, claiming his mouth with kisses and bites. 

Will pushed Hannibal to the bed, and then crawled over him, slowly, biting his way up Hannibal’s hip to his neck. “ _If_ I let you…”

“And if you do not,” Hannibal began with a grunt, his hips pressing up into Will, as dark eyes dazzled with lust and love, “I will eagerly submit myself to your desires.” 

“Yes,” Will grinned, ruggish, boyish even. “Will you?”

“To your every whim and fancy, yes, Will,” Hannibal rasped, running his finger tips down Will’s jaw, to his lips. 

“Good.” Will nipped at Hannibal’s fingers, sucking them into his mouth as he leaned in closer, resting the cleft of his ass just over his bulbous head. 

Hannibal snarled lustfully, resisting the urge to press up into the tight heat of Will’s body - a promise was a promise. “I will behave myself, for now.” 

“For now,” Will echoed, putting his mouth further around Hannibal's fingers, sucking them softly, groaning just under his breath as he ground down against Hannibal’s cock.

A nearly silent gasping sound came from Hannibal as he stilled himself and marveled at Will’s power of seduction. He was entirely enchanted and ready to burst just from the sight alone. “Yes…”

Will nipped at the pads of Hannibal’s fingers, and then popped his mouth off. “Put them in me.”

Hannibal licked his lips and grabbed the lube from the nearby nightstand, slicking up his fingers before he reached around and pressed one in his ass. He worked him enough to add the second, his eyes staying locked onto multifaceted hues. “You are breathtaking.”

“Mm,” was all Will managed to hum, arched back into Hannibal’s fingers, leaning over him, their eyes connecting and meeting, never faltering.

The elegant doctor skillfully pressed against Will’s prostate, his other hand skating down his smooth chest to find his nipple yet again. He rolled one between forefinger and thumb as he worked in and out of the empath's hole. Will rolled to the side, flat on his back, and tugged Hannibal over him, to work him over this way.

Hannibal took it upon himself to swallow down Will’s cock as his scissored his fingers and added a third. He bobbed up and down, cheeks hollowed as his tongue laved hungrily. He did so enjoy savoring and worshipping every part of him. Will pressed his hips up, shoving his length further down Hannibal’s throat, watching the tight fit disappear into the his warmth.

Hannibal’s eyes glistened with dampness from the pressure but he enjoyed it, opening his throat to take down every inch, fingers curving to get him deep inside. Will gripped the doctor’s hair, their eyes meeting as he pushed every last inch down his throat, a deep, dark menacing feeling growing in his chest.

“Good-”

It was a delight seeing Will take what he wanted this way, letting himself be used as an instrument for his beloved’s pleasure alone. Hannibal groaned, a vibrating cadence that went up his throat and into Will’s shaft as he continued. 

Spreading his thighs, Will hitched his hips up, begging for another finger, to be worked open so he could _really_ take what he wanted, when he wanted it. “More,” he demanded.

Hannibal pressed his fingers together and added a fourth, working in and out carefully as his tongue laved over the sensitive nerves of Will’s cock. Everything burned at once as Will gasped a groan into the air, jaw dropped, toes curled.

“Hannibal…”

Popping off, Hannibal licked his swollen lips and looked at Will, pulling out his fingers. “I would very much like to be inside of you,” he husked, crawling over Will’s body like a jungle cat on the prowl. “If I have your consent, of course.”

Will hooked his legs around Hannibal’s hips and flipped them over, pinning the elegant man to the bed. He use a little lube on Hannibal’s cock and then slid over him, down until the tight rings of muscle gave and Hannibal was hip deep.

Hannibal let out a quiet curse in his native tongue, grunting at the feel of Will’s warmth strangling his cock. He curled his fingers into the hands pinning him and licked his lips. “Will-”

Their fingers slid together and Will used the momentum to grind back down on Hannibal, ass to hips, head lolling back, hair in his bright, lust blown eyes. Hannibal pressed his hips up, giving Will a more solid foundation to work with, his cock throbbing inside the hot clutch of his lover’s body. Heat coiled rapidly inside his core, threatening to beautifully burn him alive. 

“Hannibal-” Will managed, their hips meeting and colliding with every fail swoop. Heat dared to burn pleasantly through Will’s lower back, down his spine, threatening to bleed into his loins.

“Yes, Will, take what you desire,” Hannibal murmured, his eyes blown black from all the swirling lust he felt for Will. He strained against the grip on his hands, wanting to touch his beloved. 

Every ounce, every inch, of Will was on fire as his hips moved with our own accord, up and then down, grinding and smashing, his prostate taking a beating he wasn’t sure he’d survive as the heat coiled. Finally, his body tensed, toed curled into the bed, and his cock rubbed against Hannibal’s belly enough to bring him right over the edge, crashing into the ocean of pleasure below, grunting Hannibal’s name in breathless abandon.

Watching Will come undone like that, feeling his body pulse around his cock, had Hannibal all but roaring like a lion. He quickly found his own release, the two of them blurring into one as he spilled hot and thick inside of the only man he'd ever loved. “Will-!”

Slowly, Will came down, sweaty and hair messy, stuck to his face, chest glistening. “Hannibal…” he whispered, leaning over him to kiss the doctor slowly.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s back, rubbing down to his ass where he squeezed, kissing him languid and deep. “Will… my perfect Will.”

Will smiled, a soft whimsical look, and then rolled to his side, panting softly. How he’d ever lived without mind blowing sex, he had no idea, but then again, he’d never had someone like Hannibal who understood him so completely. Hannibal rolled over into his side, and reached out for Will, taking his hand to kiss. 

“I wonder if you would join me for an outing tomorrow evening,” Hannibal began, assessing Will’s reaction. “The opera.”

Will’s brows brows into his sweat hairline, blinking at Hannibal. Of course he would wait until he was docile and unable to run. “I thought you were trying to keep me afloat, not sink me,” he teased, nervously. On Hannibal’s look, he sighed. “Alright, okay. I’ll go. I… don’t have a tux.”

Hannibal smiled and leaned in to kiss him, appreciatively. “That is remedied easy enough, there is one already awaiting your inspection, just in your room in the closet,” he said, having taken Will’s measurements as he'd slept before. 

Pausing a beat, Will narrowed his gaze on Hannibal, the moment gone. “You… you already have a tux waiting for me? You took my measurements?”

A proud smile played over Hannibal’s lips as he nodded once. “Indeed I did, Will, yes. One never knows when it might come in handy.”

“I don’t know whether to punch you or thank you,” Will murmured, completely at a loss for anything else to say on the matter.

“Feel free to do as you, Will. You never fail to surprise me with your cunning,” Hannibal hummed, imagining Will a top him, fists flying and blood splattering. Beautiful. 

“You’re infuriating sometimes,” Will sighed, rolling over to rest his chin on Hannibal’s chest.

“Am I? I did not realize,” Hannibal winked, palming down Will’s back as he gazed lovingly at him. 

“Irritatingly so,” Will whispered, strumming his fingers through Hannibal’s salt and pepper chest hair. He couldn’t actually be mad, not for long. At least he didn’t have to go to tailor now.

Which is precisely what Hannibal had in mind when he took the measurements, that an he would not have another placing their hands on him in such an intimate way. “Irritation is a form of passion and as such, I will accept it gladly,” he murmured, and ran his fingers through Will’s hair, leaning to kiss him softly. 

“Of course you would,” Will said, but he smiled, even still. Hannibal managed to get his mind off things, if even for a little while. 

“Yes,” Hannibal smiled back, a slight and twitching thing. He traced the curve of his jaw, over his cheekbones and down to his lips. 

“So, what’s this opera about?” Will asked, laying in the curve of Hannibal’s outstretched arm, feet tangled together.

“It's Handel's _, Giulio Cesare in Egitto_ ,” Hannibal said, beginning to explain as he smiled at Will. “Julius Caesar in Egypt and it is loosely based on historic events during the Roman Civil War of 49–45 BC.” 

“That actually sounds interesting. They convey that in an Opera?” Will asked, admittedly he’d never bothered with Operas, the music wasn’t his liking.

“Indeed they do,” Hannibal answered, pleased to hear Will say that. “It is a dramatic and poignant tale, all told with beautiful music and expression.”

“I bet,” Will sighed, curling on leg over Hannibal’s hip.

Hannibal ran his hand up Will’s thigh and narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yes, quite.”

Guard down, Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal softly. “I’m sure the experience will do me well.”

“I believe so and if you find it not to your liking, I shan't ask again,” Hannibal promised with a kiss in return. 

“Shan’t you?” Will teased, nipping at Hannibal lips once.

Hannibal gave a mock look of disapproval and grinned, rolling over to pin Will with his body, gazing lovingly. “No. Definitely not, Mylimasis.”

The happiest Will had ever been was right there pinned under Hannibal, under the man he loved, with dogs at the foot of the bed snoring softly. They had a makeshift family starting with Abigail, hopefully, and Will thought all the things he ever thought he’d be terrible at were proving him wrong. Even with the spirits that haunted him, Will found it easier to rest with Hannibal, sometimes sleeping longer than he intended.

***

Will spent the next day teaching about the Ripper, how he killed in Sounders of Three, and how he was certain what they were seeing were more Ripper cases to come. The class was attentive at least, even if Will felt perhaps no one believed him about recent cases. He went home that night, not looking so forward to the opera after all, but for Hannibal he did his best, ignoring his demons as he put the tux on, Hobbs leering at him from the other side of the long mirror.

Hannibal finished dressing, adjusting his bow tie and turning around to look at his posterior. Perfect. He walked over then to see how Will was coming along. “Ah, but you do look breathtaking,” he crooned, a charming smile playing on his lips. 

Will toyed with the bow tie, frustrated, avoiding the mirror as Hobbs dead eyes kept latched on to him. “Could you help me with this?”

“Certainly,” Hannibal said, and turned Will towards him gently, tying his tie and straightening it. He smoothed down his lapels, licking his lips. “I took it upon myself to procure a little gift for you. One moment,” he said. 

Hannibal walked over to the bureau and opened a small drawer. From it, he pulled out a little wooden box and handed it to him. Inside was a pair of gold cufflinks, the design on the top made of antler bone, a small stag carved there. “I hope you don't mind.”

“And here I am without anything to give you,” Will said quietly, looking at the precious jewelry, but allowing Hannibal to put them on for him.

Once they were on, Hannibal leaned in to kiss Will softly. “You have given me all I could ever require already, Will.”

“I doubt that,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s lips, well aware the doctor was a spoiled kind in the things he liked, but he’d never asked Will for anything but himself.

“As far as you and I are concerned,” Hannibal amended, proud of his eccentricities and extravagant tastes but Will was the most precious of them all. 

Will smiled at that, and then kissed Hannibal again. “Good. I haven’t much else to give.”

“You have a vast wealth of a great and many thing inside you,” Hannibal assured and drank in the image of Will dressed that way. 

Will adjusted the cuffs and then took Hannibal’s hand. “Can we go?” The sooner this was done, the better.

“I was about to suggest that very thing,” Hannibal said and grabbed his keys and wallet, leading Will out the door, dogs already taken care of. 

Will got into Hannibal’s car, passenger seat, and buckled in, always marveling at the luxury of the car and why anyone would need it. Hannibal buckled up as well and started the engine, heading out of the driveway. 

***

Once they arrived after a pleasant drive, Hannibal got out and gave the keys to valet, opening Will’s door and offering his arm. “Shall we?” 

Will took Hannibal’s arm, not sure where to put his hand, but this seemed the safest spot. “You realize this is our first outing together… as a couple.”

“Indeed I do. It was one reason for the gift,” Hannibal said with a smile and a wink, walking Will up the stairs to brushed glass doors that were opened for them. He took two programs and nodded his thanks to the doorman, escorting his beloved to their private box. “How does that make you feel?”

“I’m… not sure,” Will said, quietly, and sat down, taking one of the programs to look over it.

Hannibal pulled out two pair of glasses and handed one to Will for viewing; he leaned back and wrapped his arm around him. “Do you feel embarrassed?”

“No,” Will said, holding the glasses. “Do I… look embarrassed?”

“We all convey emotion differently,” Hannibal smiled, speaking quietly, aware he was being watched. 

Will narrowed his eyes a little. “I’m hardly embarrassed to be seen with you,” he hissed.

“It was merely a question, Mylimasis,” Hannibal said, taking Will’s hand. “You yourself said you weren't sure as to how you felt. I am merely trying to guide you through the murky waters of confusion.”

“I more unsure how I’ll feel if we see someone we know and they ask. I… I mean I’m not embarrassed,” Will conveyed once more. “I just haven’t openly dated a man before.”

“You needn't worry, Will. We can be as openly affectionate or as reserved as you may wish. I am simply pleased you are at my side,” Hannibal assured, not offended in the least. It was interesting to see the empath's response to such social situations. 

“Better with you than on my own,” Will countered with a little smile and leaned in closer, taking Hannibal’s hand into his free one.

“As it should be,” Hannibal smiled back, eyes narrowed with mirth as the curtain began to rise and the lights dimmed. He kissed the back of Will’s hand and looked towards the stage. 

Will did his best to feign interest, some of it actually was, after all, but for the most part it was not his type of… thing. Hannibal looked over at Will once, gauging his reaction, though he'd anticipated a lack of interest despite how positive he'd seemed about it the night prior. 

Once intermission started, Hannibal put down the glasses and canted his head towards his beau. “Would you like some champagne? I also recommend the bathroom if you require it.”

“Sure,” Will said, standing smoothly. Hannibal joined him and offered his arm, offering a charming smile. 

“Right this way.” 

Will gently wrapped his fingers around Hannibal’s bicep and allowed himself to be lead out, keeping in step with the other man. Hannibal was pleased to have him on his arm as he walked them to get some champagne.

“Do you like champagne, Will?”

“It’s alright,” Will answered.

Hannibal got them each a flute and handed one over to Will all the same. “Here you are,” he said with a smile. 

“Thank you,” Will said quietly, and took a long sip, something to maybe make him not so aware of everyone in the room. Larger groups always had a few lingering ghosts behind a few people who were vapidly unaware.

“You're welcome,” Hannibal said, standing in the lobby with Will. A robust man walked up to him, smiling. 

“I _knew_ you'd be here,” the man said, looking at Will and then back to Hannibal. He smiled brightly, if not a little nervously and waited. 

“Will this is--” Hannibal began only to be cut off. 

“I'm one of his patients. Franklyn,” the curly haired man said and stuck his hand out for Will. 

Will shook Franklyn’s hand with a weary smile. “Will. Not a patient.”

“Will is my date and partner,” Hannibal explained, amused at the way Franklyn seemed to get uncomfortable. 

“Oh, Ohhh,” Franklyn said, laughing a little awkwardly. “Well as I said, I saw you before. I was hoping you'd wave or… something.”

“I saw that you saw me, but I thought it improper to greet you. It would not have been discreet,” Hannibal said, taking Will’s hand as a tall, elegant, dark skinned man walked up beside Franklyn, staring Hannibal down. 

Will eyes narrowed on the other man, watching the strange waves of spirits bustle about the room and nowhere near him. Odd. The taller man offered his hand to Will first who shook it, and then Hannibal.

“Franklyn aren’t you going to introduce me?”

As Hannibal shook firmly, eyes locked onto the other man’s, Franklyn glanced between them. “Where are my manners. Doctor Lecter this is my friend Tobias Budge, Tobias, this is Doctor Lecter.”

“A pleasure, Mister Budge,” Hannibal said, his eyes narrowed a fraction. “And this is Will Graham.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Tobias said, as warmly as he could, but Will seemed to see right through it. “Graham, the infamous Shrike agent?”

“I wouldn’t say… infamous…” Will said, sighing.

Hannibal watched everyone, as his intrigue grew. “Will is rather phenomenal, in many a ways.” 

“So the papers say,” Tobias said, but his intrigue was more on Hannibal than anyone else.

“Depends on which papers you read,” Will pointed out, sipping the last bit of his wine and setting it down on a passing tray.

Hannibal put his empty champagne flute on the tray as well after he took the last sip, noting how Franklyn was fidgeting excessively. What an interesting evening. 

“I didn't see you at the cheese shop this morning,” Franklyn said, giving away that he'd been looking for Hannibal. “We’re both cheese folk…. you and I.”

Will rolled his eyes just a little, and gave Tobias a look who also seemed rather put off. “He was busy fitting my tux to me.”

“Right. Yes, of course,” Franklyn said quickly, returning his gaze to Hannibal who pursed his lips slightly, growing tired of the chatter. 

“I hope you enjoy the rest of the performance and it was a pleasure meeting you, Mister Budge,” Hannibal said, giving Tobias an assessing look even if his face betrayed nothing. 

“I’m enjoying immensely so far,” Tobias said, placing a hand to Franklyn's shoulder. “We should be taking our seats.”

“Yes, quite right, as should we. Take care,” Hannibal said, as Franklyn waved. He nodded and guided Will back to their booth. 

Once inside, Will sat down and leaned over to Hannibal. “I needed more than champagne for that.”

“I'll make amends when we return home,” Hannibal chuckled quietly, briefly, and turned to place a soft kiss on Will’s lips. 

“It’s fine,” Will insisted, savoring the quiet moment together before the rest of the opera started. “He’s very… neurotic.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said with a small smirk on his lips, undetectable as the lights dimmed again. “And what did you think of Tobias?”

“There’s some strange baggage attached to him,” Will whispered with a look at Hannibal.

“I believe so, yes,” Hannibal said, the smell of blood faint on Tobias but present. The curtain went up, the opera starting once again. 


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s the Chesapeake Ripper,” Zeller said from the suit, Will in the bathroom looking at the body in the tub, gouged open, botched surgery. Sure as hell could have been, but…

“It’s not the Ripper.”

“There are too  many similarities,” Zeller pointed out, giving Jack a look, but Jack was looking at Will for answers.

“There aren’t enough.”

“Knife wounds are cuts, not stabs.  Anatomical knowledge, dissecting skills.  Mutilation, organ removal. Victim’s in clothes, on display.  Can I say etcetera or should I go on? Twenty-two signature components all attributable to the same killer.”

“Twenty-two  _ possible _ signature components,” Will corrected, staring at the ghost that was now looming by the body, the ghost of the man who died there. It made it going back and retracing the whole thing easier. Also made obvious this was not the Ripper.

“It’s the Ripper!” Zeller said but before Will could argue, he gave Jack and look and shut the bathroom door on Zeller’s face.

“The Ripper left a victim in a church pew using his tongue as a page marker in the Bible he was holding.  This isn’t that,” Will insisted before Jack could ask the obvious questions. “This is a medical student or trainee, someone looking to make some money, and they did some sloppy back alley surgery, Jack, and it went bad.” On Jack’s look, Will sighed. “You’ll catch him eventually. Just not today.”

“I want it to be today.”

“Sorry,” Will shrugged. “You can’t just jack up the law and get under it.”

“Can’t I, Will?” Jack shifted his jaw. “How do you see the Ripper?”

Taking a deep breath, Will let out every last bit of air, long enough to let his thoughts collect. “I see him as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals.  They feed it, keep it warm, yet they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal, and nobody can tell what he  _ really _ is.”

***

Some days his mind was focused, some it was fire and he was sure he was hearing things. Will was fading, in and out, like a life force flickering. The day has worn on him and he had already done home but Hannibal was not there. So, he stopped at the office. It was, of course, their regularly scheduled time for meeting, and Hannibal loved to keep them.

Will knocked waiting, and once the door was opened, he looked at Hannibal. “Have you been drinking?” He noticed the bottle of the wine open and the glass set out.

“I had a glass of wine with my last appointment,” Hannibal explained, walking over to peck Will on the jaw. He smiled and offered to take his coat.

Will let the coat fall off his shoulders and then off. “You drink with your patients?”

“She drank with her patient. I have an unconventional psychiatrist,” Hannibal answered, taking the coat and hanging it up.

“Oh.” Will rubbed his hands together and took a seat, where he usually did, just out of habit of being there. “We have that in common then,” he smirked.

“Perhaps though we are far more than Doctor and patient,” Hannibal said, sitting down across from Will. “Either way, I assure you, having a glass of wine with a patient can be quite conventional. Particularly given it's an evening appointment.”

“How long have you been seeing her?” Will asked, cautiously now, ever finding out new things about Hannibal that put larger things into the picture as a whole.

“When I chose to become a psychiatrist,” Hannibal answered, and then stood up, offering Will a drink without words. “What's good for the goose…”

“Please,” Will said, more than needing something to take the edge off, even if it was a… pink wine.

Hannibal nodded and poured them each a glass, handing the wine to Will before he sat back down. “So the Chesapeake Ripper has struck again?”

“No, not the same guy” Will answered as he took the wine and sniffed it, learning this was what had to be done first, and then sipped it. “Jack wanted to think it was him, but it wasn’t. Too sloppy.”

“Then the victims were brutalized. What was this killer hiding?” Hannibal asked, taking a slow sip after a sniff. He leaned forward and studied his beloved.

“Careful surgical removal and preservation of vital organs,” Will said, licking his lips and taking another sip.

“Valuable organs,” Hannibal added, watching the sweep of Will’s tongue before taking another sip and setting the glass down for the moment.

“Organ… harvesters?” Will set the glass down, leaning over as he thought that through.

“Jack is looking for a killer he cannot catch. I would say it is a brilliant diversion,” Hannibal offered, his hands neatly resting atop his lap.

“A diversion?” Will raised his brows and then furrowed them all in one sweeping emotion.

“It provides busy work for Agent Crawford. Something similar in nature to the Chesapeake Ripper but not him,” Hannibal answered, smiling faintly at Will.

“A diversion implies that it might be done with purpose.” Will stood, hands in his pockets, pacing a little. “But not always. It’s not the case Jack wants, or the killer he wants to catch. The Ripper is so close he can taste him, but… Jack’s being ghosted, so to speak.”

“I would imagine that is quite humiliating for him,” Hannibal said, watching Will pace. He stood up as well, and went to lean by his desk.

“Yeah,” Will nodded, walking toward Hannibal, picking up his wine on the way to take another sip. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“No. I would simply redirect my plan of action into one that was more efficient,” Hannibal answered, never one to feel shame or humiliation. Indignity was something different and a thing he would absolutely loathe to be made to feel. The doctor canted his head up, a welcoming gesture for his beau.

Will took a gulp of the wine and set it down on Hannibal’s desk before sliding himself between his legs, hands on his hips. “A good point.”

Hannibal placed his hands on Will’s waist, spreading his legs a bit more to accommodate him as he looked into his eyes. “Jack doesn't do so, perhaps, because he has you.”

“I’m the crutch,” Will sighed, running his hands up Hannibal’s waist to his chest, resting them on his shoulders.

“The foundation in which he builds his houses,” Hannibal agreed, and leaned closer to take in Will’s scent, his eyes not faltering in their penetrative stare.

Will rolled his eyes and flushed, sure the heat in his face was all from Hannibal. “You smelled me again.”

“Perhaps I simply enjoy your scent,” Hannibal crooned, leaning in to kiss Will softly. He stroked his cheek, feeling his temperature as he did, only slightly warm, but knowing Will he’d already taken a handful of pain and fever reducers.

The softness of the gesture spread a smile across the medium’s lips, eyes hooded. “Better than loathing it.”

“There exists no circumstance in which I would loathe any facet or aspect of you,” Hannibal assured, smiling back when he saw Will’s curved lips.

“God, I hope not,” Will murmured, leaning in so their noses rested together. He was growing severely attached, a hard won feat from the special agent.

Hannibal promised his words in the form of a kiss, a vow unspoken, one never to be broken. He was irrevocably in love with Will Graham. The lion was at the mercy of the lamb. As Will hummed at that, feeling every once of Hannibal’s promise, he rested his fingertips on Hannibal’s jaw as their lips met and meshed together.

The doctor ghosted his lips over Will’s when he pulled back enough to let them catch their breath, his eyes hooded and dilated. He traced the curve of the other’s ear as his arm hooked around his waist. Pressed tight to Hannibal’s groin, Will could feel every inch of himself grow hard against his beau, head tilted away, neck presented to Hannibal as one of Will’s more sensitive erogenous zones.

Licking his own lips, Hannibal leaned in, peppering kisses on Will’s neck as his hand lowered to hold his beloved’s ass. He scraped sharp teeth over the thudding pulse he found, tongue pressing against it in a circular motion. Will gripped Hannibal’s shoulders, a shiver working down his spine and spreading a hot warmth through his lower back.

“Hannibal-”

“Oh, Will-” Hannibal groaned, and bit down with a firm pressed between neck and shoulder, grinding his hard, trouser clad erection into Will’s.

The agent sighed with pleasure, fingers gripped tight into Hannibal’s shirt. “I want you,” he whispered, having come to the reality he could not deny them both their needs and wants with each other.

“And I you,” Hannibal rumbled, his nimble fingers undoing the buttons of Will’s flannel. He wouldn't deny him anything, nor himself. “I wonder if you would like to switch roles a bit, hm?”

“Yes,” Will said quickly, not going to let Hannibal back out now. Will worked Hannibal’s tie undone and then his jacket. “Right here, over the desk.”

“All the control is yours,” Hannibal whispered, shrugging the items off, then undoing his trousers for Will. He ran one hand up his lover’s chest, as the other reached for the lubricant. “Take me, William, do as you wish.”

“Those are loaded words, Doctor Lecter,” Will husked, undoing his own khakis, letting them drop to his ankles, hard and tenting his boxer-briefs. He reached around Hannibal and moved a few things to the side of his desk to make room.

Hannibal leaned back against the desk once he slid his pants and boxers off, his head canting to look at Will in the eye. “A load I am well prepared to take.”

Oh god, Hannibal talking any kind of dirty was enough to reduce Will to heaving pile of lust. He pushed Hannibal down over the desk, biting at his lips as he pulled his legs apart and ass toward the edge of the desk.

Watching Will with awe and dark, wanton desire, Hannibal curled his fingers around the edge of the desk, a little snarl playing on his lips as he did. “Just look at you.”

Heating from his core out, Will felt a drip of sweat started at his neck and then slowly down his neck and back as he took the lube to slather his fingers. He’d had this done to him enough time that he knew what to do, so he pressed in one finger first, testing Hannibal’s limits, their eyes meeting as silence filled the air and was replaced with their soft, heavy growing breaths. The doctor’s breath hitched at the breech, his body relaxing into it. He'd played before, of course, but he'd never allowed anyone to penetrate him - only his beloved Will.

“God, tight,” Will murmured, pressing in a second finger only a bit later, working Hannibal open the way the doctor had done him their first time around.

Hannibal groaned out his response, his cock unsheathed and leaking against his furry belly as he kept keen eyes on Will. He grasped his shaft and began to pump it, veiny hands working well as his beau did the same to his hole. “Ah, Will-”

Taking control of their love trieste for once, gave Will a since of power and belonging, that Hannibal trusted him where he would no one else. Their conjoining about to take a whole new level. Will scissored his fingers, pressed Hannibal open as he pushed against his gland, eyes never leaving his, their connection seamless.

Heat burst through Hannibal's core and down his thighs as Will hit  _ that _ spot; he was flawless in his ministrations and the good doctor had never been more pleased.  “Yes, precisely like that, Mylimasis…”

“Tell me when you’re comfortable,” Will whispered, leaning over to kiss Hannibal’s chest chastely, adding another finger, hoping to get him used to more girth.

“I am ready, whenever you are,” Hannibal whispered back, roughly and relaxed into the third finger, his heart racing with delight.

Will slathered himself up and pulled his fingers out. He guided his tip to Hannibal’s awaiting pucker, one hand on his hips, and gently started to press in. He swore under his breath, tugging Hannibal down over himself.

Hannibal braced himself with his hands on the desk, and moaned wordlessly as he stared into Will’s eyes. He swallowed and took a pleasurable breath. “Will-”

Past the tight wrung of muscle, Will paused when he was hip deep, staring down at Hannibal with intensely dark eyes, ever changing like the sea. Shaking, he began to thrust, little swivels of his hips, jaw dropped, sweating. Chest heaving, Hannibal tugged Will down over him, deft fingers slipping through dewy skin as he kissed him deeply, tongue laving. It was beautiful and the good doctor was adding this a very treasured imagine in his memory palace.

“Hannibal…” Will managed between heated kisses, holding the doctor’s legs up to drive into him, slowly at first, sure to build that speed as they went, but enjoying every single effort he made, taking in every quiver.

“Will…” Hannibal breathed, his cock slapping against his belly as he was taken faster. The burn had long since given way to pleasure, and he held strong biceps with one hand, as the other gripped his cock to stroke in time with each perfect thrust received.

Getting to watch Hannibal fall apart at his own ministrations, Will bit his lip, watching the sight as as he worked harder, faster, plunging deep into Hannibal’s ass, a sheer sheen of sweat forming over his brow as the heat in his belly spread and boiled, threatening to grip his balls and pull them up.

“Yes, lose yourself in me,” Hannibal groaned, holding eye contact as he stroked himself faster, his stomach tightening from the desire burning there. He was close, exquisitely so, and his hole twitched in warning.

“I-” Will couldn’t hold it any longer, his fingers clenched around Hannibal’s hips as his testicals drew up and he came in blinding white hot heat, his movement stuttering as he spur, gasping.

Seeing Will unfold so beautifully, sent the elegant doctor over the edge with him. He let go, a temporary loss of self control as his body clenched and milky come shot out of his cock. He wrenched his fingers into unruly curls, tugging Will to his mouth for a heated kiss. Panting against Hannibal’s mouth, Will groaned, riding out the waves of pleasure as his cock was milked every last drop.

Hannibal wrapped his legs around Will’s waist as they shared breath and kissed intermittently. He gazed at him with love and adoration, the warm stickiness between them primal. “I love you, Will…”

“And I you,” Will murmured back, catching his breath, wrapped up in their shared heat.

Hearing the confirmation was a sort of sustenance to Hannibal, it fed the flame burning in his heart. He kissed Will again, stroking his face. No words were needed, just each other.

***

Half past seven, Hannibal noted, as he walked over to the office door to open it up, expecting to see his beautiful beau. He wasn't there. No Will Graham waiting. Perhaps he was a bit late, the doctor thought, looking out into the lobby, to the left and right, the smile having faded to a frown.

A bit of patience, Hannibal decided, walking over to his desk. He sat down in his chair, and opened his appointment book, when it had progressed to forty after seven.  _ W. Graham 7:30 pm _ , it said. Fingers skimmed over his phone, debating, contemplating, until it became _ too _ much. He rose from his chair, pocketed his phone, and grabbed his keys, as well as his coat.

***

Walking into the classroom, Hannibal saw him, saw Will, staring off as though he were in a dream. The doctor was quiet at first, before he finally said, "I usually require twenty four hours notice before a cancellation, Mylimasis, but for you I can make an exception," he smiled, though a bit of curiosity, and a tinge of annoyance was in his tone.

Startled,  Will blinked, staring at Hannibal and then rubbed his eyes. “What?”

"Where were you just now?" Hannibal asked, walking over by the desk, touching Will's shoulder to help ground him. "You did not show up for your usual seven-thirty appointment. I was concerned."

“What time is it?” Will asked, he stretched back and looked at his laptop, still stuck where it had been before he lost track of time. “I… was dreaming I guess.”

“Nine o'clock,” Hannibal answered, contemplating. “Your eyes were open, but you were not present.”

Will rubbed his hand over his face, leaning against his desk. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to. I guess I shouldn’t sleep at all these days, nothing good comes of it.”

“I’m not certain you were asleep,” Hannibal said, and then leaned over to kiss Will’s lips once to reassure him. “It’s quite alright but I would like for you to recount what you remember, if anything. Both what I walked in on, as well as the last thing you recall prior to that.”

“I was going over a lecture for tomorrow and pictures from the latest organ harvester murder,” Will explained. “Next thing I knew I was… here, talking to you.”

“It could be a form of stress induced narcolepsy, or perhaps dissociation,” Hannibal offered, taking in a deep breath, Will’s scent filling his nostrils.

“Both?” Will huffed, ignoring Hannibal’s insistence at smelling him, for now. “Either way, I apologize for missing our appointment.” At least it wasn’t a date.

“It could be, yes,” Hannibal offered, eyeing Will curiously. He licked his lips and touched his beloved’s back, rubbing gently. “It’s alright, Will. You have a valid reason as to why you did not show.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Hannibal. “There wasn’t much to discuss anyway.”

“Be that as it may, I am simply glad you are alright,” Hannibal said, looking down into beautiful sea blues. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah,” Will said, packing up his laptop and lecture notes into his satchel, and then put it on.

Hannibal pressed his palm on the small of Will’s back as they walked out, and he pulled out his keys. Will sighed and stayed close. They lived together for the time, but they kept appointments at Hannibal’s office, to keep it out of their personal life.

***

Back at home, Hannibal changed into his pajamas, while Will tended to the dogs, and then poured them each a night cap. “I was presumptuous in assuming you might want one,” he grinned, offering it over.

“No, because I do,” Will said, taking it, in his pajama pants now, looking ragged and worn.

“I thought you might need one,” Hannibal nodded, sipping on his own, gesturing for Will to join him in the sitting room.

“You don’t think it might not be helping me?” Will asked, following his beau into the next room, and took a seat by the fire.

“Are you concerned I am encouraging addictions and bad behaviors?” Hannibal asked, not unkindly, but more wondering what prompted the question, beyond the obvious.

“I was just curious,” Will said with a smile, something he hardly ever did these days except around Hannibal.

“I would not wish to do anything to harm you,” Hannibal assured, and leaned over to kiss Will softly, rubbing his thigh.

“I trust you,” Will said with a soft smile against Hannibal’s lips, and made room for him on the sofa.

Hannibal sat and hooked his arm around Will, holding him close. “Thank you, Will.”

“I think the loss of sleep and weird fevers are making paranoid,” Will whispered, taking a sip of his drink, hoping it would help him rest after today.

“Your mind can come up with all sorts of untruths when it is not grounded in reality,” Hannibal agreed, gazing at Will, and then taking another sip.

“Instability,” Will sighed, looking into his glass with a hard swallow. He was afraid of that, that Jack had pulled him into things he should have never gotten into. Hobbs’ ghost was still lingering, still taunting.

“Yes, but I can help stabilize you, Will,” Hannibal explained, rubbing Will’s arm. “We are all capable of moments of instability in our lives, especially when under duress.”

“Aren’t we already doing that? Is there something else?” Will asked, curious to know if he could be… fixed.

“Hypnosis might prove quite beneficial, if you’re agreeable to such,” Hannibal offered, watching Will.

“Hypnosis?” Will looked at Hannibal, brows furrowed. “Does that actually work?”

“Indeed it does, on most,” Hannibal answered, crossing on leg over the other.

Will downed his drink and set the glass on the side table. “Okay. We can give it a try next appointment time.”

“Agreed,” Hannibal nodded, finishing his drink as well before setting the glass on the table. He smiled and leaned over to kiss Will’s jaw.

“Want to reschedule for tomorrow?” Will asked, licking his lips as he curled in next to Hannibal, lifting his feet to the sofa.

“I believe I can squeeze you in,” Hannibal answered with a grin, enjoying the feel of Will’s warmth next to him. It didn’t even bother him that his feet were on the sofa. Only his beloved.

At least he was in just his socks. Will kissed Hannibal’s jaw, arm over his middle. “How generous of you.”

“I do my best to be accommodating,” Hannibal winked, and turned to face Will, capturing his lips once before resting his cheek against silky soft curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, thank you so much for reading. We're not sure when or if we'll have time to get back to this, due to personal and life reasons, but we wanted to at least post the rest of what we had. Apologies, but maybe one day we'll be able to come back to it, if not, at least got to do this much. <3


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